


I Can't Read Your Mind (Though I'm Trying All the Time)

by kindahannah



Series: I've Been Waiting For You [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Coffee Shops, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Friends to Lovers, Gratuitous use of italics, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, and em dashes, but both james and lily's pov, but only very briefly - Freeform, euphemia is a queen, james potter being rich is everything to me, jily centric, mcgonagall owns a coffee shop called hogwarts brewery, nobody dies and everyone is in love, peter pettigrew is cute and good, potter family extravaganza, the potters own a small castle, they all work at said coffee shop bc why not, wolfstar and marlene/dorcas are side pairings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-14
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-10-09 19:52:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 40,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17413226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kindahannah/pseuds/kindahannah
Summary: “Oh, sod off. If it’s such a big deal, why not just ask one of us to go with you?”“Like who? Sirius? I know my mum is a bit of a nutcase but there’s no way ever in a million years, that she’d really believe that—”“No, genius, not like Sirius. Like me.”Or, the one where Lily is just trying to be a good friend by offering to be James's fake girlfriend for a weekend at the Potter Family Extravaganza. Really. Only, James just so happens to be in love with her, so this can't be any good for his health, and Lily is oblivious to the fact that this might not be so platonic for her, either.





	1. Of Banishment Campaigns and Bad Ideas

**Author's Note:**

> i'm a sucker for jily and for a good, old-fashioned fake dating au! so here we are!! buckle in kiddos, it's going to be a bumpy ride!!
> 
> also the title is from "woman" by mumford & sons, which is a song i hold near and dear to my heart when it comes to jily :')

Lily Evans is not a romantic at heart.

It isn’t that she hates the idea of true love or soulmates. She _doesn’t._ In fact, the notion that there’s someone out there who’s supposedly perfect for her in every way sounds like a dream come true. Lily’s problem with soulmates is just that—they’re only a dream.

She’d never really been scorned by love, exactly, aside from one catastrophic friendship that had gown down in flames back in secondary, but that was strictly platonic love—on her side, at least—so it didn’t count. Really, she has pretty solid role models of love. Her parents were perfectly, completely in love. All her grandparents have had long, happy marriages. Even her sister and her painfully average boyfriend—now husband—have a relationship that’s all smooth sailing.

She just can’t bring herself to believe that they’re really believable, or realistic, in any way. Not. for her, at least. Quite frankly, she’s already busy enough with trying to get her degree in the spring, and then move onto law school in the fall. She doesn’t have time to worry about anything as silly as finding her _one true love._

But, of course, she had to wind up with the most ridiculous group of hopeless romantics for friends. Like, really, really ridiculously, hopelessly romantic. Ridiculously, hopelessly romantic enough that they made a tradition out of illegally streaming _The Bachelor_ —the most absurd and clearly falsified reality dating show known to man—and watching it together. Which meant that she had to watch it, too.

If she didn’t love them so much, she’d have made a run for it a long time ago, but now she was in far too deep.

“Look at Becca and Garrett! Lily, you can’t tell me that you don’t believe in soulmates when they’re so happy together!” Dorcas practically squeals, watching the couple on the television screen with giant, doe eyes.

“It’s not that I don’t believe in _love_ , I just don’t believe that this show isn’t incredibly fake!” Lily defends herself from where she’s sprawled out on the floor, taking _forever_ to fill out her bracket for the new season because, so far, the premiere has shown next to no clips of the actual contestants and has instead been full of footage about everyone that’s ever been on the show, _ever_ —including a too-long montage of all the successful Bachelor couples, admittedly adorable, children which did _nothing_ to help prove her point.

All she knows about the girls so far is that Cassie is beautiful, and a speech pathologist, and actually perfect—Lily has all her money on her winning it all—and Heather has never been kissed—which means she won’t be dramatic enough to last long so Lily has her leaving mid-way through the competition—and that Demi’s mother is in federal prison—so Lily placed her in the hopeful position of the Final Four, just because she thinks a Hometown date to a prison would be wildly entertaining.

Her musings over the sad fates of the girls who sign their lives away to Chris Harrison and Company are cut short by a pillow being thrown into the back of her head. She doesn’t have to look to know exactly who did it, but she shoots up and sends an icy glare towards Sirius for good measure, anyway.

“It’s okay, pet. Don’t listen to the bad lady, she’s just bitter because she’s alone.” Sirius coos, petting Dorcas’s hair from where he sits on one side of the girl, acting as though he has to shield her from Lily. Which, like, Lily’s view on soulmates clearly hasn’t hindered Dorcas at all, since she’s been happily coupled up with Marlene for nearly a year.

Speaking of. “Marlene, c’mon, give me something to work with here.” Lily tips her head to the side, and she’s not quite pleading for support but she knows that if anyone would agree with her, it’d be Marlene McKinnon.

“You could always pull out the statistics, again. That’s always a good argument.” Marlene’s eyes are shining, clearly entertained by the back-and-forth, as though it hadn’t been a constant feature of their Mondays for the last two years.

Lily sits up properly now, prepared for the face-off she knew was coming. “Think about it, Black! There are—what—over 7 billion people in the world? If you only spoke to each one of them for a few minutes to see if you hit it off, you know how long that would take you?”

“Over three hundred years!” Peter pipes up from where he’s buried beneath a mound of pillows and blankets that have become his makeshift seat for the night, having heard this particular speech many times. He’s always been very good at offering Lily the support that she needs, especially when she so regularly finds herself going head-to-head—albeit in only the most friendly of nature—with Sirius Black, the only person who could ever beat her in a debate. She’s tried to get him to consider pursuing law many, _many_ times over the course of their friendship, but he never relented.

“Three hundred years!” Lily repeats in a tone twice as loud as Peter’s, throwing her hands up in the air for dramatic effect. “We don’t have three hundred years!”

Sirius raises his chin defiantly at her, a gesture that Lily has come to easily recognize as a signal that he was only just getting started in the debate. And, if she had to pick out one quality of Sirius that was her favorite, it would definitely be that he was always ready and prepared for a good, verbal joust. “Well, clearly not _everyone_ is the right age to be your soulmate, Evans. You’re not going to go around talking to all the babies or the elderly, are you?”

“Let’s refine it, then, shall we?” Lily wishes she’d made a PowerPoint about it. Maybe she will, for next Monday. “In just the UK, there are like… nearly nine million people who are anywhere from twenty to thirty years old. And, in America, there are twenty-five million! That’s nearly thirty-five million people our relative age, and in only two countries!”

She could continue, but she’s cut short by a piece of popcorn hitting her straight between the eyes. This time it isn’t Sirius who orchestrated the attack, but Emmeline, who’s sprawled out on the armchair. Really, _Bachelor Monday_ should be renamed as _Throw Things at Lily Monday._ “Oi, Evans, enough with the math! You’re hurting my head!”

She sticks out her tongue at the girl before making a show of tossing the piece of popcorn that Emmeline had attempted to use as a weapon into her mouth. It was symbolic of her triumph over what had been intended to hurt her, but she was the only one who cared about symbolism, so she didn't bother saying as much.

Sirius doesn’t say anything else, which is very unlike him, and Lily’s wondering if she’s won this time. Once she steals a cautious glance at him—because, for all she knew, he could be planning an attack at this _very moment_ —she understands.

“It hardly matters for me, really.” Sirius declares confidently, drawing all attention back to him—exactly what he does best. He’s got the arms of his boyfriend, Remus, wrapped around his shoulders and his head squarely in the center of his chest. Remus Lupin, as it seems, is the only person who has ever walked the face of the earth that possesses the rare ability to subdue Sirius Black. She doesn’t understand it, but she does appreciate it. “I’ve already found my soulmate, isn’t that right, Moony?”

“It absolutely is.” Remus nods against the top of Sirius’s head, the mere action seeming to make Sirius melt a bit more into a state of calm.

Emmeline makes a retching sound. “You’re disgusting.”

“I concur.” Lily agrees, and she _does_ wholeheartedly believe that Sirius and Remus are completely disgusting. However, there’s no question that she’d take the tooth-rotting, lovey-dovey couple-y-ness over the maddening, pitiful _pining_ that they’d all been subjected to for over a _year_ before the two had finally gotten their wits about them and realized they were arse-over-teakettle in love with each other. It had been _terrible_ , and Lily knew for a fact that they’d all been only one _Sirius Black Fit™_ or one _Remus Lupin Lamentation™_ away from quitting at the coffee shop and leaving them to sort it out on their own. Thankfully, they’d managed to get themselves figured out before it came to that point, and they’d been inducing nausea on their friends with their Honeymoon Stage ever since.

Even now, Lily could still laugh at their absurdity, but she doesn’t want to provoke Sirius any more than she already has. Instead, she turns her attention to reaching forward to grab a handful of for herself before settling back into a seated position on the carpet and shooting a look at Emmeline. “You know, us single folk should really stick together, but you threw popcorn at me—which, as we know, is a true call to war—so now we _must_ be enemies.”

“I’ll stick together with you, Lily.” Peter’s voice sounds out from beneath his pile of pillows and blankets again, his face shortly popping into view after he manages to wiggle free, as well. He’s a small, mousy boy—looking more like sixteen than twenty-one—so it’s not a surprise that he’s so easily swallowed up by the fabric.

Lily shoots him a wide smile and offers him some popcorn as a thank-you. She’s not big on sharing food, so the action is especially meaningful. “Peter, you’re a saint. Together, we will preserve through the darkness that is the disgusting relationships of our friends.”

“Lily, if all you’re going to do is slander love and romance during the most sacred of the week, then we’ll have no choice but to banish—”

“Not the _Banish Lily on Monday’s_ campaign again.” A familiar voice interrupts from behind them, a smile taking over her features despite the fact that her banishment was being discussed, _again_. “What’d she do this time?”

If you had told Lily Evans, back when she first started at university, that she’d ever be happy to hear James Potter’s voice, she would have laughed square in your face. She didn’t like him much at first—really, she didn’t like half of the people in the room, at first.

In freshman year, her circle of friends had been contained to only include her three roommates—Dorcas Meadowes, Marlene McKinnon, and Emmeline Vance—who she’d been matched up with blindly. It was the best thing that had ever happened to her, of course, seeing as they were still best friends and living together now, during their final year.

Near the beginning of their first year, the girls found their solace from the craziness and chaos that was university in a small coffee shop down the road from campus. They’d only gone in the first day as more of a laugh than anything, because the name of the shop— _Hogwarts Brewery_ —was so ridiculous they couldn’t resist it. Only, they’d inadvertently stumbled upon the coziest place with the _best lattes in the world_ , and they quickly became regulars. Lily even ended up getting a job there, and before long, Marlene was an employee, too.

The big change came when, in January, a new employee came through the doors of Hogwarts Brewery. His name was Remus Lupin, and he was all long limbs and very few words. Lily had resolutely decided that she was incredibly unsure of him, and proceeded to remain very suspicious… up until she realized how very smart and clever he was. The first time that he’d made a joke around her, finally having warmed up enough to make conversation, the sharp wit of his words had been so surprising that she’d actually doubled over in laughter. Lily Evans could admit when she was wrong, and she was certainly wrong about Remus, who became one of her dear friends from that day forward.

Before Remus’s third day at the shop had come to an end, another one of his friends, Peter Pettigrew, came through the doors, stuttering as he asked where the owner was and clutching his application so hard in his hands there were crease marks running through the paper. Initially, she had been doubtful of whether or not he’d be able to make it through the morning rush of the shop without having an aneurysm, but he, too, proved to be perfectly lovely and capable.

Everything was fine and well, the four of them working with Dorcas and Marlene being their usual customers, but then Remus and Peter’s other friends started showing up, only a few days into poor Peter’s employment.

“Oh, dear God.” Lily had heard Remus groan under her breath. At first, she wasn’t concerned, but then Peter had yelped in a decisively frightened way, and Lily spun on her heels to see what on Earth was so terrible that Remus and Peter had both audibly reacted.

What she saw was two boys shoving each other through the front door of the coffee shop, the volume level of the small space increasing ten-fold—as did her annoyance. She was prepared to send them right back out the door without serving them anything, but then—

“Moony!” The one in the worn, leather jacket with a shit-eating grin had called out cheerfully.

“Wormtail!” The other, the boy with a head full of too-messy hair and crooked glasses, had bellowed.

Lily and Marlene exchanged baffled expressions, trying to figure out _who_ or _what_ the strange customers were talking about. Surely not any of them, _right?_ Lily was about ready to call the police when—

“Padfoot.” Remus had sighed, an expression that signaled his patience was already running out on his face, at the same time that Peter had squeaked out, “Prongs.”

So, these were Remus and Peter’s friends. She rolled her eyes at Marlene, who mirrored the exasperated expression on her face, before Lily accepted that she _could not_ call the police, and resigned herself to get back to work. Or, tried to, because the two newest guests to the shop were making it incredibly difficult to focus on anything.

The one with the glasses, the one Peter had called _Prongs_ , whatever _that_ meant, was leaning right over the counter that Lily was trying to wipe down and seemed oblivious to the way that she’d been burning holes into his head with her glare. It wasn’t until the one Remus had referred to as _Padfoot_ elbowed him in the side that his gaze snapped up to her. “What are you looking at?”

Lily saw _red._ “You, obviously.” She responded in a short, snippy tone, her scowl only deepening at the cocky grin that appeared on the boy’s face.

“Me too.” He said it like a pick up line, and Lily couldn’t hold back the indignant scoff she let out as she shook her head at him. She knew it probably wasn’t far-fetched for the boy to assume she was staring at him because he was attractive, because he certainly _was_ —all broad shoulders and lean muscle and somehow managing to look good with glasses askew on his face—but the fact that he knew he was attractive immediately made Lily definitively _unattracted_ to him. “I’m James.”

“I don’t care.” Lily had shot back before she could even process the words. He looked shocked for a moment, at least, but the expression quickly disappeared and was replaced by amusement. “That counter needs to be cleaned off before the afternoon rush picks up, so you can either order something or you can get out of my way.” The other boy immediately began to cackle behind him, and Lily shot him a glare, too. She wasn’t trying to be funny. “I’m serious.”

“No, I’m Sirius, you’re—” The boy ceased his laughter momentarily to look closer at her nametag. “—Lily.”

“That can’t possibly be your name.” Marlene spoke up from behind Lily, her voice somehow sounding equal parts unamused and intrigued.

“I left my birth certificate in the pocket of my other jacket, actually, but I promise it is. It's a life of woe and misfortune I live, being saddled with a name like—”

Lily whacked the towel in her hand against the counter, crying out in frustration because James _still_ hadn’t moved from the counter that she _still_ needed to clean, and the outburst effectively silenced both James and Sirius. “I couldn’t give two flying _fucks_ what your names are! You’re both being obnoxious, and we have work to do!”

Somehow, she managed to get rid of them, but the cocky expressions that had been snug on their features as they promised they’d _see her tomorrow_ left her grouchy for the rest of her shift.

From that day on, James Potter and Sirius Black were the bane of Lily’s existence—the both of them, but mostly James.

They sauntered into the shop _every time_ Peter or Remus had a shift—as if inducing migraines in her was their favorite extracurricular—talking too loud, and distracting Peter and Remus too much, and causing such a commotion that, after a while, the owner of the shop—a no-nonsense woman named Minerva McGonagall—came out from her office and insisted that if they wanted to loiter around her shop all day, every day, they could _make themselves useful_ and start working for her or they could leave.

Lily had expected them to walk out with their tails between their legs, but—much to her chagrin—James Potter, with his stupid messy hair and stupid glasses, had flashed McGonagall a _stupid_ smile and said, “Alright. When’s my first day?”

At first, it had only made Lily detest him _more._ He was already insufferable enough just as a customer, but once they became co-workers, he’d somehow put the notion into his head that they were _friends_ suddenly, and became all too comfortable around her.

Eventually, the pick-up lines that had once made her grit her teeth turned into feisty jabs and friendly banter, and though he was _still_ the bane of her existence most of the time, James Potter had somehow managed to find a way into her and carve out a space for himself that, once occupied by him, could never belong to anyone else.

Eventually, Dorcas and Emmeline both ended up joining the Hogwarts Brewery staff, too—because _everyone else has, so why shouldn’t we_ and McGonagall seemed mildly impressed with how many employees she acquired in such a short time—and the rest was history.

Now she’s tucked up in the apartment the belongs to the boys, watching a show that she _despises_ because she loves her friends _that much_ , and, to top it all off, she’s being saved from another jab at how single and alone she is by none other than James, himself.

“She’s too bitter and lonely to believe in the magic that is _The Bachelor._ ” Marlene informs him, snorting under her breath. “Same as every week.”

James nods, just as familiar with the usual circumstance as the rest of them, and he kicks off his shoes before joining Lily on the rug. “Join the club, Evans.” He steals some popcorn out of her hand, and Sirius is speaking up again before she even gets the chance to reprimand him for it.

“I take it your date didn’t go well, then?” Sirius prods, and Lily is momentarily pleased that the spotlight has shifted from her before confusion takes over her mind when Sirius’s words register fully.

She turns to James with a raised eyebrow, ready to interrogate him because he didn’t _tell her_ that he was going on a date and they usually tell each other _everything_. That’s there only reason for the bitter taste that’s rising in her throat, of course. And, apparently, he was prepared for the questioning, because he’s already looking back at her with his _let-me-explain_ expression on his face. “It wasn’t _really_ —”

“It was more of an interview.” Remus offers, and there’s traces of a joke in his tone that Lily doesn’t quite understand, and she feels awfully left out of the loop for a moment but before James can say anything else, the commercial break has ended and Dorcas is shushing everyone back into silence.

“Don’t worry, I’ll never let them banish you from my apartment, Evans.” James whispers against Lily’s ear, making her snort under her breath. They all know, James included, that Sirius was the one that run the show. They also know he’ll never _really_ banish her, not even for Monday’s.

“Much obliged, Potter.”

And, as much as she hates to admit it, it isn’t long before the drama of the show gets her all caught up—but, like, _okay_ , this girl just ditched her dog with Chris Harrison, so who can blame her for being invested—and Lily tucks the thought of James and his _not-really-a-date_ into the back of her mind, deciding she’ll ask him about it later.

She doesn’t. At least, not that night, because, just like every other Monday, she’s lulled into sleep by the slow motion’s of James’s fingers carding through her hair as her head rests in his lap, before the episode ends.

* * *

James Potter has always, unquestionably, been in love with love. Ever since he was young and naive, he held steadfast to the idea that everyone has someone _perfect_ for them in the world. He just _knows_ it. He feels it in his heart.

He’s been surrounded by perfect relationships his entire life, it feels like, with the most dynamic of them being his parents.

Euphemia Potter was possibly the craziest person that James had ever met—honestly, it was highly likely that she was the craziest person in the _world_. Yet, even she found her perfect match with his father.

Euphemia burned every single meal she ever cooked, and Fleamont ate them all anyway and told her how delicious they were. Euphemia once went through a phase where she was determined to be a professional badminton player, and Fleamont set up a net in their backyard. Euphemia had a life-long dream of raising a family of squirrels, and instead of telling her she was nuts—the way that James had, because the joke was _right there_ so how could he not?—Fleamont had worked diligently to try and create an elaborate squirrel house in their living room, and had written a strongly worded letter to the pet store when they discovered that they, in fact, did _not_ sell squirrels. Fleamont watched and critiqued every foreign movie that Euphemia put on the television, despite the fact he could never understand a lick of what they were saying, and he wore every bizarrely patterned shirt and pair of socks that Euphemia bought for him with pride, and if his wonderfully, lovably insane mother could find someone to love her like that, then so could James—because, you know, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, and James also loves a good pair of odd socks, and all that.

And, yes, maybe he’s constantly on the lookout for his soulmate, but it’s not like he goes around falling head over heels in love with everyone he meets, or anything. And he most certainly would never sign up for a reality television show to try and find love.

Really, for how intensely he loves love, James Potter has never been in a serious relationship. Sure, he’s dated around and what not, like anyone at university has, but he’s yet to settle down because he’s yet to find the right one.

Scratch that.

He’s absolutely, positively, without a doubt already found the right one. There’s only one, tiny, miniscule roadblock in his way called _I’m in love with a girl who thinks that soulmates are unrealistic._

From the very first time that James laid eyes on Lily during freshman year, in the coffee shop where Remus and Peter had started working at, he had been completely taken with her. Sure, he’d come for the priceless opportunity of teasing his best mates to hell and back for working at a coffee shop called _Hogwarts Brewery_ —seriously, who came up with that name and who really thought it was a brilliant and clever idea to name an establishment for eating after _hogs_ and _warts_ —but he’d stayed for the beautiful girl with the green eyes that knocked the breath straight out of his lungs and who told him off for being _obnoxious_ after not even knowing him for ten minutes.

He was _in love._

As soon as Remus and Peter got back to the dorm they all shared that night, James began to incessantly badger them about the _beautiful_ girl that they worked with, question after question about her falling from his lips in the pursuit of knowing everything there was to possibly know about Lily Evans.

_How does she take her tea? What’s her favorite color? How does she feel about cats? Is she seeing anyone? Would she consider seeing me?_

Remus—because he was apparently the _least helpful friend on the face of the planet_ —cut him off as soon as he started to ask if she wanted a big family, smacking him upside the head to pull him out of his Lily Evans induced, lovesick trance. “I’ve only worked with her for, like, _a week_ , Prongs.”

James had only gaped at him, because _how_ Remus could stand to know Lily for a week—7 whole days, 168 whole hours, 10,080 whole minutes—and _not_ want to know everything about her was beside him. “She’s my _soulmate_ , Moony! The least you could do is help me out, just a bit!”

“This is exactly why I didn’t want you to come into the shop.” Remus had groaned, and if James hadn’t known perfectly well that Remus was already immune to finding James’s antics anything but normal, he would have thought that he was _embarrassed_ of him. “She’s my _friend,_ and now you’re going to scare her off by being behaving like a lunatic.”

At first, James was mildly offended at the suggestion that he would scare off Remus's friends, but he had bigger fish to fry at the moment and chose not to linger on it. “Okay, I’m going to ignore the insinuation that I’m the reason you don’t have friends, even though it was _incredibly rude_ , because I am in love and there’s nothing that can bring me down.”

James quickly became determined to win Lily’s affections. Arguably, he was more determined about it than he’d ever been about anything in his life—more determined than he had been to earn a spot on the university’s football team, more determined than he had been to pull off the mother-of-all-pranks before he’d left secondary school, even more determined than he had been to get Sirius to watch all of the Star Wars films with him in one weekend.

And, because Remus and Peter apparently wanted him to _suffer_ , he had to do it without the help of his friends who were lucky enough to work beside her.

He started to come into the coffee shop every day, doing everything he possibly could to get to know Lily. He tried to make conversation with her, tried to crack jokes, tried to hit on her, but James wasn’t exactly known for his record of being suave and charming—rather, he was known for his record of making a complete and utter fool out of himself every time he was around a pretty girl. Sirius said he was excessive and ridiculous—which, really, was _rich_ coming from Sirius, _The Most Dramatic Person on the Planet_ —but he preferred to call it unbridled passion and power of will.

( _“Potato-tomato, Padfoot.” “That is literally not how the expression goes, you know that, right?”_ )

Regardless of name, even his most valiant attempts of winning over Lily Evans didn’t appear to be enough.

She never laughed at his jokes—only rolled her eyes and muttered under her breath about how he was a moron. She swiftly rejected every even _slightly_ flirtatious remark without batting an eye. She very clearly did not, and would not, give him the time of day and it devastated him more than it should.

Normally, he wouldn’t be the type of person who would be deterred by a girl not fancying him, but the more he was around Lily, the more that things started to change. It wasn’t a silly crush anymore. It was _real_. Lily Evans—with her stomach-turning smile, her head-dizzying laugh, her heart-wrenching indifference towards him—has thrown him head-first into an ocean, and now he was struggling to stay afloat.

After a couple weeks of James moping around their apartment, Remus, by some stroke of fate, took pity on him. “She thinks you’re not _serious_ , mate.”

“I'm _not_ Sirius, I’m James.” He’d responded, unable to stop the words that had nearly been conditioned into him by the amount of times he’d said them before, but when he looked up from the bowl of cereal he’d been pushing around with his spoon instead of eating for the last fifteen minutes, Remus was giving him _That Look_ —the one that means he’s definitely just said the wrong thing. _Right. Be serious._ “What do you mean?”

“Like, all you do is come in and mess around and take the piss and she just… I dunno, she thinks you’re immature.” Remus replied sheepishly, studying the mug of tea between his hands very intently instead of looking up at him.

Okay. So she thought he was immature. That wasn’t the _worst_ thing in the world, he had supposed. Maturity was something he could do—something he could definitely do.

The only problem was _how_ he'd show Lily that he was very mature and responsible, but, as the universe may have it, he and Lily were apparently meant to be together, because the very next day he was sitting in Hogwarts Brewery when McGonagall, the owner of the place, came storming out of her office with a pointed glare, telling them that they could either start making themselves useful and become employees, or stop loitering on her property. The pang of shame that was typically reserved for the occasions when he disappointed his mother only surfaced for a moment before it was replaced with pure glee.

He glanced over at Remus for the briefest of moments, who was already looking at him with an almost wary expression—the same face he made whenever he was dubious of one of James’s brilliant schemes—before standing and offering McGonagall the most confident smile he could muster. “Alright. When’s my first day?”

Not even ten minutes later, he was signing his life away in McGonagall’s office as the newest barista of Hogwarts Brewery when he heard the sound of a throat being cleared behind him. He whipped around in his seat, admittedly a bit too fast to be casual, and there she was—Lily Evans, in all her glory. She had flour on one of her pale cheeks, and James thought she looked beautiful. She’d simply had a question for McGonagall about what pastries the woman had wanted her to bake for the day, but to James, her sudden appearance reaffirmed that this—getting a job alongside her—was the perfect opportunity to prove to her that he was most definitely, very mature.

He wasn’t sure what kind of expression was on his face when he turned back around to face McGonagall—maybe lovesick, or mischievous, or somewhere in the middle of the two—but whatever she saw made her narrow her eyes at him, watching him carefully over the rim of her glasses. “There will be no funny business in my shop, Mr. Potter. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

As it was, McGonagall didn’t need to worry about any funny business from James Potter. Not at all. He’d never had a job before—never needed one, not as long as he was using the money his parents gave him wisely—but it turned out that they were a great deal of work. He had no choice but to buckle down and become, well, _mature._ Not just about Lily, but about everything—time management, studying, hanging out with his friends, the works.

And, as he went through his mental growth spurt, he found himself getting rather close to Lily. Only, she was no longer just _Lily, the Beautiful Coffee Shop Girl_. Now, she was just _Lily, His Friend_. She was Lily, the English major who spent her spare time scribbling on napkins or old receipts whenever she was struck with a thought she had to record. She was Lily, who wanted to go to law school and be an immigration lawyer because of a dickhead from secondary who had been her best-friend-turned-enemy when he joined in on this awful group of people who were determined to get all immigrants out of England. She was Lily, who liked it best when the radio in the coffee shop was playing the ridiculous eighties music that he used to hate, but now was growing to love just because of the way that Lily bopped around when it was on. She was Lily, who memorized poems for fun and quote them aloud sometimes, and got him to start reading poetry, too, so that he could quote poems right back to her.

They started hanging out outside of work, too. Not just Lily and James, but Remus, and Sirius, and Peter, and Marlene, and Dorcas, and Emmeline. It all fell into place, just like that, all of them. The four boys and the four girls, once all completely different people turned best friends, and all because of the most strangely named coffee shop in England.

And, yes, James is still absolutely in love with Lily Evans—now for _everything_ that she is—but he’s learned how to tuck it away in the farthest corner of his mind and in the very bottom of his heart, because there’s _nothing_ in the whole world that would ever make him jeopardize this friendship with her that, frankly, means everything to him.

He’s gotten very good at it, too. Even when it’s only the two of them, alone, just like it is that Tuesday morning as he rushes through the front door of the shop. He’d overslept and the last thing he wants at the moment is to be berated by McGonagall for punctuality. He already has enough to worry about at the moment, and he’s really, _really_ hoping he can manage to sneak in undetected when—

“You’re late, Potter.”

He freezes, but only for a split-second because he could recognize that voice anywhere, and it isn’t McGonagall’s. Lily is standing behind the cash register, flashing him a shit-eating grin as she ties her hair back and away from her face. She looks perfectly put-together, like always, and he’s sure he looks like a disaster. “You scared me!” He huffs, giving her his best angry glare as he makes his way around the counter, too, trading his coat for an apron.

She merely laughs, entirely unfazed by his scorn. “Don’t worry, Minnie’s not here and I already clocked you in.”

And, like. It’s really hard to forget that he’s in love with her when she’s so perfect. He could maybe excuse a joking kiss on the cheek, because she knows as well as he does that he’d have been written up for being late again, but he doesn’t want to risk it. Instead, he goes for something a bit more subdued and blows her a kiss. “Lily, you’re a lifesaver.”

“I do believe you owe me an explanation, at least. Why were you late? Another date gone poorly?”

Yes. There it is. He should have known that he wouldn’t get off so easy—Lily never makes anything easy. He’d really been hoping to avoid telling her about the disastrous, and incredibly embarrassing, events of last night, but that was _really_ wishful thinking. “You’re going to laugh.”

“It’s very likely.”

“And make fun of me.”

“Probably.”

“And think I’m a complete and total idiot.”

“I already do, so you might as well just get on with it.”

James gives an overly dramatic sigh. There’s no way out of this one, not really, so there was nothing to do but get it all over with. “Okay. Well, you know that family reunion thing my family has every winter?” Really, the phrase _family reunion_ was severely downplaying the experience that was the _Potter Family Extravaganza_ , but it was the best he could do without sounding like a pompous ass. Either way, Lily nods her understanding so he continues. “Well, it’s this weekend and, you know, we’re almost graduating so everyone expects me to be a proper adult and shit, and it doesn’t help that my cousin Marty—who’s two years younger than me, by the way— _is engaged_. So now my parents are basically guilt-tripping me into bringing a date because I _ought to have a steady girlfriend by now, or at least a steady job—and, no, that blasted coffee shop doesn’t count!_ ”

Lily raises an eyebrow. “Your _parents?_ ”

Right. James sort of forgets how deeply woven into his life that Lily Evans has become now. She’s met his parents—well, all the girls did when they came to his family’s cottage on the lake and stayed for a week last summer. Euphemia had absolutely _adored_ Lily—she couldn’t stop talking about her for three weeks straight after the trip, which did nothing to help James’s mental stability, thank you very much.

Point being, Lily definitely knows that the impression he’d just done was _spot on_ for Euphemia, and that Fleamont would never say something like that.

“Okay,” James amends, “My _mother_ wants me to bring a date, because apparently she’s completely out of things about me to show off to all the relatives.”

“And this relates back to last night… how?”

“I’m getting there.” James scowls. This is the part of the story that he’s _least_ excited to share. Being an alleged disappointment to his mother was child’s play compared to this. He pinches the bridge of his nose as he exhales, his blood pressure rising just thinking about it. “Well. She wouldn’t get off my back about it—you know how she is—so I knew she wasn’t going to let it go, so I had to do _something_ to try and find a date—”

“ _Oh my God_.” Lily interrupts, eyes suddenly wide and shining with a gleeful, _menacing _luster that makes James narrow his eyes at her. “Don’t tell me that you made, like, an ad on Craigslist. Was your date a total creep? Was she old? Was she even a she? Did you almost get murdered?”__

 

 

“It wasn’t a Craigslist ad! It was a Tinder, and it was entirely Sirius’s idea!” James begins to whinge petulantly, but the attempt to save himself from complete embarrassment is a failure because Lily immediately begins to laugh so hard she has to lean over to catch her breath after the fit is through. James is positive his cheeks are bright red, and he'd kind of like to curl up and die now. Thanks.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Lily practically wheezes, wiping away _honest to goodness tears_ from the corner of her eyes. She looks like she’s about to start laughing again, and James decides that he is definitely _not_ above sulking in order to make her stop. It’s a little bit humiliating, but it works, so. “Listen, even though I think it was incredibly hilarious and also very stupid, I’m really glad that you didn’t get murdered by your Tinder date last night.”

“Gee, thanks. I’m glad my life means more to you than a good laugh.” James replies dryly, and he almost doesn’t even care that he’s totally made a fool out of himself because the expression on his face is apparently so pitiful that Lily throws a comforting arm around his shoulder. _Almost_.

Lily gives him a good-natured pat on his back, leaning her head against his arm because she’s not quite tall enough to reach his shoulder. “Oh, sod off. If it’s such a big deal, why not just ask one of us to go with you?”

“Like _who? Sirius?_ I know my mum is a bit of a nutcase but there’s no way ever in a million years, that she’d really believe that—”

“No, genius, not like Sirius. Like me.” Lily snorts, withdrawing to look at him, still smiling in the most casual way that James had ever seen—which is so, _incredibly not fair_ because he feels like he’s about to have a _seizure_.

“Um. What?” Is the incredibly eloquent he manages to muster up. Lily is looking at him like he’s grown two heads, which is fair because he feels like his brain just _broke_ so he can hardly imagine what he might look like. There's a glitch in the simulation. There has to be. No way did _Lily Evans_ just offer to be his date.

“Well, I mean, I just figured that—you know, because you came to my sister’s wedding last summer, the least I could do would be to repay the favor.”

Which, like, _yes._ He did do that, but as her _friend_ , not as her _boyfriend_ , and there's a very big difference. He decides to tell her as such. “They want me to bring a _girlfriend_ , Lily, not a mate!”

“Right, because they’ll suddenly believe that you have a brand-new girlfriend that you’ve never mentioned before and that you don’t know anything about.” Lily accuses pointedly, and James is still gaping at her. “They at least _know_ me, and I reckon you might be able to remember a thing or two about me, so it’ll be easy to fake that than a complete stranger!”

Yes. There it is. _Fake._ That’s the catch that he was waiting for. The signal word that assured him he wasn’t still dreaming, or perhaps stuck in a parallel universe that he entered through his bathroom mirror, or something. It takes everything in him not to let his face fall the way his hopes just have, and it seems he’s at least a little successful, because Lily goes on.

“Look, it’ll be fun, and I’ll be stellar. Watch.” Before he can mentally prepare himself for what’s coming, Lily’s grabbed for his hands and intertwined their fingers. The effort he’s putting into _not_ thinking about how perfectly their hands slot together is almost painful. Then her other hand is on his bicep, rubbing circles into it with her thumb, and James is almost positive he’s entering cardiac arrest at that very moment. Maybe he should call an ambulance. “Oh, why, Mrs. Potter, don’t you look ravishing tonight? I simply _adore_ those socks. Hello there, Mr. Potter! You have someone to introduce us to? Well, I say! Lovely to meet you, Aunt Muriel, I’m James’s _girlfriend_ , Lily.”

James's girlfriend, Lily. _James's girlfriend, Lily._ Suddenly it’s _toomuchtoomuchtoomuch_ and James yanks his hand away from Lily before he can think twice about the action. He just—he can’t hear those words, not when she's dangerous close to undoing him, not when he’s been trying _so hard_ for years now to push back every feeling he’s ever had for Lily Evans.

The very same Lily Evans who is giving him puppy dog eyes right now, the ones that James cannot, and has never been able to say no to. “C’mon! It’ll be fun, I swear. You shouldn’t have to go and be subjected to torture at your _own_ family reunion, and I could write a killer book out of it. I heard that people just eat up stories about fake dating.”

He should say no. He should absolutely say no. It’s self preservation. If he says yes, if he lets Lily go home with him and pretend to be his girlfriend then he’s only opening himself up to a different kind of torture that was definitely worse than being made fun of for being single. The words are on the tip of his tongue: _Thank you for the kind offer, but I’ll pass._ But then she does that stupid thing where she makes her lower lip tremble, and it’s embarrassing how quickly he caves. “Okay. _Fine._ But when that book is made into a movie, you better have someone extremely attractive playing me. Like that kid from the movie about the letters that everyone is obsessed with.”

Lily positively _beams_ at him. “Of course. Only the best for you, dear boyfriend.” James’s mouth goes dry at that, but he refuses to let it show. “I’ll have to spice it up a little bit, though. A little bit of unrequited love here, a dash of angst there… Oh, this is going to be great!”

And that’s when James Potter realizes that he’s made a terrible mistake.


	2. Of Remembrances and Realizations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi, welcome back and thanks for coming with me on this journey :') just a couple of QUICK things before we dive on in!
> 
> 1\. this chapter DOES feature a minor character death, so if you want to skip it then be on the lookout for when lily mentions OCTOBER in her flashback section of the chapter, from there you can skip to the next section! there's nothing graphic, just some heavy angst for a quick moment, but i didn't want it to be sprung on anyone!
> 
> 2\. this chapter also has substantially more flashback material than the last, so pay attention to verb tenses to know where (or, when) you are! anything in the past-tense happened in the past, and the present tense is well... the present!
> 
> OKAY, that's all, enjoy ur time reading! :-)

“Pain has an element of blank,” James cries out as he makes his way into the apartment. Really, it’s all for the dramatic flair of letting his friends—who he _knows_ will probably be in the kitchen or the living room, like always, and even if they aren’t the volume of his wailing will be enough to alert them that they need to congregate _quickly_ —know that there’s an urgent matter at hand. “It cannot recollect when it began, or if there were a day when it was not!”

He slams the door behind him for good measure, kicking off his shoes before making his way into the living room and dropping into a sprawled-out position on the couch—where Sirius and Remus are already located, watching some cooking show.

 _Really,_ what is it with them and televised competitions?

His roommates share a glance over his head, and he doesn’t even need to look to know that it’s more exasperated than concerned, which is _very unfair_ because he’s in the middle of a _crisis._ He doesn’t even hear the sound of Peter’s footsteps scurrying in from his bedroom, which is the disappointing cherry on top of his sub-par sundae known as _betrayal_ . It would seem as though he hasn’t made it clear that this is _literally a matter of life and death_ , so he has no choice but to continue with his performance. “It has no future but itself, its infinite realms contain its past, enlightened to perceive new periods of pain!”

“Okay, enough with the Shakespeare!” Sirius finally breaks, gifting James with the attention that he _so deserves_ , except—

“That wasn’t even Shakespeare!” He objects, honestly a bit offended by the assumption that the only poetry he knew was Shakespeare. Even though, _no,_ he didn’t _exactly_ learn it for himself—rather for a certain red-haired poetry fanatic whose name he could not _stand_ to think about at the moment, lest he go into cardiac arrest all over again.

But still. It’s important.

He’s ready and prepared to go on about the poem he was reciting, which was absolutely _not_ Shakespeare, but Peter’s voice sounds from across the room. “Where’s Lily?”

James jerks up to stare at him, eyebrows furrowing. Was Lily supposed to be here? Had she not inflicted enough emotional turmoil on him already today? “She’s not here?” He says it as a bit of a question, even though he knows that she isn’t hiding out in the apartment somewhere because she always goes straight from their Tuesday morning shift to campus for class, but he doesn’t want to _offend_ her if she _is_ hiding somewhere.

“Oh. I just heard Shakespeare, so I assumed,” Peter shrugs, a look of mischief in his eyes.

Sirius sniggers, and James _knows_ that they’re making fun of him—and, _yes,_ maybe his affection for poetry _did_ stem from Lily, but that isn’t the point! “It _wasn’t Shakespeare_! It was _Dickinson_!” James declares, as if having a deeper knowledge of poetry than Shakespeare will help his case. The looks he earns from his friends proves that it _does not_ help _at all_ , and he scowls. “Shut up! I’m having a crisis!”

“Is this still about your family thing?” Remus asks, sounding almost tired of hearing about it.

James would understand, since he _has_ been going on and on about it for quite some time now, but he’s very clearly making _a very big deal_ about it this time, so they should know it’s important. “Yes, actually, it is!”

“Listen, mate. I’m sure Euphemia won’t actually disown you for going stag.” Sirius points out. And, yes, he’s _right,_ but he’s already _past that point._

“That isn’t the problem! The problem is that I have a date!”

Peter looks terribly confused. “Wait, isn’t that what you wanted?”

“ _Yes,_ but—”

“What? Did you ask someone disgusting?” This time it’s Sirius interrupting, and James is getting a bit annoyed because if they’d only let him _explain,_ then they’d understand.

“ _No,_ but—”

“So, there’s absolutely no problem?” Peter prods, spurred on in instigating the problem by Sirius, which is just _the worst._

“The problem is that it’s _Lily!_ ” He finally bursts out. The silence that overtook the room would be enough to make him feel very satisfied, if he wasn’t still _suffering._ Unfortunately, he still is _very much suffering,_ so he can’t even bask in the rewarding feeling of shutting them up.

It doesn’t last long, anyway, because Sirius is quick to jump back onto the _Let’s Torture James Train_. “You’re kidding! You finally plucked up the courage to ask her on a date?”

He almost sounds condescending, as if he was suggesting James _isn’t_ a very brave soul—which he is—and it makes him grit his teeth a little. “No, she asked me!” In near perfect synchronization, three jaws drop and three sets of wide eyes are gawking at him. He has to clarify, and _fast,_ before they start making billboards to share the news with the world. “Well, kind of. Not like a _date,_ but like… a fake date. She offered to be my pretend girlfriend.”

Remus chortles, and James narrows his eyes at his friend because this is no laughing matter. He’s having a nervous breakdown, and _Remus_ —of all people—has the audacity to laugh at him. “Well, I’ll be damned. The day has finally come boys.”

Remus’s tone is suggesting that he’s aware of something that James is not. Their shared glances are all very knowing, and now James is equally irate  _and_ confused. “What?” He demands, sitting up fully and crossing his arms.

“I knew it!” Peter exclaims, sounding incredibly gleeful for someone whose _best friend is being subjected to immense hardships._ “You both owe me a fiver!”

“Knew what?” James demands, slamming his hands against the cushions of the couch to try and pull the attention back to where it rightfully belonged— _on him._

“Unbelievable! I placed my bet giving _James_ the benefit of the doubt, and you _make money off me_ for being a _rat_ and betting on Lily!” At least Sirius sounds upset, now, but it’s not for the right reasons so James is still upset.

“Betting on Lily for _what_?” James is starting to seriously consider the possibility that he’s slipped through a crack in the space-time continuum and can no longer be seen or heard because he’s being ignored _that hard._

“Truth be told, Pete, I don’t think I _can_ give you that money, in good conscience.” Remus!? _Remus_ is in on it—whatever _it_ is—too!? James is both appalled _and_ disappointed.

“What money?” He tries again, but nobody shows any signs of providing him with any answers this time, either—continuing to go back and forth about giving Peter money—so throws himself back onto the couch again with a groan. “Should I use my invisibility to fight crime, or for evil?”

“That’s enough of you, drama queen,” Remus reprimands, and James _would_ be outraged that _nobody_ had caught onto his Friends reference if he wasn’t too busy being outraged by his _own so-called friends_ , who were making bets on him and refusing to tell him about them.

He turns his head where he’s laying, pursing his lips and narrowing his eyes in a way that’s meant to look very, _very_ mean. “It’ll be _enough of me_ when somebody tells me what’s going on!”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Sirius looks incredibly smug, and if James was a violent person, maybe he’d want to punch that smug look off of his face—but he isn’t violent, not at all, so he settles on turning his mean glare to Sirius, instead. “Lily is in love with you.”

He says it so plainly, so bluntly, that James chokes on air, sitting up faster than any cartoon character in any animated show ever had—superheroes included. “I’m sorry. _What?!_ ”

“He said—”

“I know what he said, Peter!” James snaps, not in the mood to play along with any games that the rest of the boys, evidently, found to be funny. Quite frankly, he’s already gone through _enough_ today. His stupid brain already hasn’t been able to stop thinking about Lily calling him _her boyfriend_ —or _calling herself his girlfriend,_ for that matter. The very, _very_ last thing he needs at the moment is for his _best friends_ to _encourage_ his stupid brain to betray him. “I just think you’ve all lost your minds!”

“Really?” Remus asks, an eyebrow quirking at him in an unmistakably patronizing fashion. “You came in quoting Shakespeare at us, telling us that Lily Evans wants to pretend to be your girlfriend and that you’re very upset about that, and _we’re_ the ones who’ve lost our minds?”

And. Okay. When Remus puts it like _that_ it sounds like James is the one that’s crazy. “It wasn’t _Shakespeare._ It was _Dickinson._ ”

“Nobody cares.” Sirius shrugs, like it’s the end-all, be-all of the conversation. Except it _isn’t._

“ _I_ care! And _Lily_ would—” He cuts himself off, trying to spare himself the high and mighty _I told you so_ look he’s about to get from Sirius, but it’s too late. He’s in a hole, with a shovel in his hands, and all he can do now is _stop digging._ “That isn’t the point.”

“Then what is?” Remus asks, voice turning a bit more patient, as though he’s finally starting to realize that James is actually upset, _not just being dramatic._

Which, like. It’s fair, because James _is_ dramatic and he _does_ have a tendency to blow things out of proportion—like meeting Lily once and deciding they were soulmates. He wasn’t _wrong,_ but he can admit that it was a bit excessive. “The point is that it isn’t real. Well, it’s real for _me,_ but it’s only pretend for her. And it’s hard enough to ignore the fact that I’m _crazy_ about her when we _aren’t_ together! I think I’ll actually combust if I have to pretend like I’m not in love with her and _pretend_ to pretend to be in love with her!”

It was kind of just a big word-vomit, and he’s not sure how much sense it actually made, but the thoughtful silence being presented to him by the other boys makes him think that they might understand where he’s coming from.

“Look, mate. I know Lily—we _all_ know Lily—and I think the fact that she not only _agreed,_ but _volunteered_ to go meet your entire family as your girlfriend means that _something_ about it is real to her.” Sirius speaks slowly, and James’s stomach does a small nose-dive because it’s rare to see Sirius so… well, _serious._

Also because he’s inferring that Lily might have _feelings_ for him, but that’s a different bridge to cross, entirely.

“It’s not real to her, Sirius, she’s just trying to be nice.” James protests weakly, his traitorous heart not wanting to dwell on anything besides the mantra of _Lily might have feelings for me_ that’s playing on repeat in his head.

“She’s been nice to me plenty of times without pretending to be my girlfriend.”

James whips his head towards Peter, giving him a stony glare. “Peter, that is absolutely not helpful at all.”

Of course she’s never pretended to be Peter’s girlfriend, because a situation where that would be necessary has never presented itself. At least, that’s what he forces himself to keep in mind because his friends seem to keep forgetting that if he gets his hopes up too much, _he’ll die._

“Actually, that’s incredibly helpful, Peter. Please continue,” Remus interjects, sounding so amused that all James can do is pull the pillow he’s resting on out from under his head and toss it in his direction. It bounces off his chest and Remus looks so completely unperturbed that James scowls.

Next time, he’ll throw with more gusto.

“Call Euphemia about it, then,” Sirius suggests casually, leaning back and kicking his feet up onto the coffee table as if this is all a game he’s already won.

James rubs his hands over his face, stifling a groan behind them. His mother is the very _last_ person he wants to involve in this discussion, but… if he’s going to bring Lily—and as his _girlfriend_ , no less—she’ll need to know at some point. Preferably sooner than later, if he wants to save himself as much of the Euphemia-induced wrath that’ll be coming his way for having not told her, already. So. Sirius wins.

He fishes for his phone in his pocket, putting all his energy into _not screaming_ as he finds her contact and presses the little, blue phone icon that’s making his stomach churn.

He almost loses it when Peter hurries onto the couch, telling him to put the call on speaker so they can all hear. Almost, but he manages to keep his cool intact, somehow.

The phone begins to ring, and James is really, _really_ hoping that she doesn’t answer. James looks up towards the ceiling—either praying to a higher power, or maybe just whoever lived on the next floor up. “Are you there, God? It’s me, your bastard child. Please, don’t make me talk to my mother right now. I’ll do anything.”

Maybe she’ll be busy. Maybe her phone is broken. Maybe—

“Hello?”

“One thing. I wanted one thing.” He mutters under his breath, giving a huff before turning his attention to the more dire matter at hand—his mother. “Hi mum!”

The enthusiasm is forced, but she doesn’t seem to pick up on it. “James! Hi! I didn’t know it was you!”

“You have Caller ID, mum.”

“I have _what now_?”

“ _C_ _aller ID._ It’s so that when you get a call, you know—” James forces himself to take a breath, and then to plaster a smile on his face. She can’t see him, but in one of his business classes he took last term, his professor had told them all that smiling made your voice sound happier. Apparently, it works nine times out of ten. “Actually, doesn’t matter. I can help you with it when I’m home this weekend. Speaking of which...”

“Did you find a date?” Euphemia’s words are demanding and calculated, and it makes James feel like he’s a child that just got caught in the midst of misbehaving. It was the voice that she brought out whenever she wanted him to confess to something, the voice that meant there was only one right answer and there would be repercussions if he didn’t offer it to her.

“I did, actually,” He speaks slowly, trying to find the balance of sounding casual but still excited enough to make it believable.

“Well? Who is it?”

James looks up to his friends for support. Sirius is trying—and failing—to mask his anticipated grin. Peter looks like in the midst of watching the most thrilling movie of all time. Remus gives him a single thumbs-up, and a nod. “Lily.”

The line is silent for a moment, long enough for James to wonder if she’s even heard him, and just as he’s about to repeat himself a resounding shriek comes from the phone. It’s so loud that  James has to hold the phone away from his face a bit to keep his ears from bleeding, but he knows that the reaction is a good one. “Oh, I _knew_ it!”

“What?!” James squacks indignantly, quickly drawing his phone closer to him again, as if he’d heard her wrong.

“Spare no detail! Who made the first move?” This is the version of his mother that James has only ever witnessed appear during the Spanish soap operas she loved so much, and he isn’t quite sure _how_ to feel now that he’s on the receiving—or, provoking, perhaps—side of things.

“Well. Lily, I suppose,” He admits, trying to keep a mental note of all the details he lets slip now, just so he can inform Lily, as well. For continuity reasons, of course.

Euphemia makes a triumphant noise, and James eyes the phone warily. “Are Sirius and Remus there?”

“Yes…”

“You tell them that they owe Peter and I _both_ five pounds.”

Sirius moves quickly to cover his mouth before any laughter can seep out of it. James’s mouth falls agape. “You _bet_ on who would make the first move?” And, more importantly, “You _bet against me_?”

“In my defense, dear, we made the bet that week you all came to the cottage.”

“So?!”

“Well, she was just so _sweet on you_ that whole week, I was _sure_ that it wouldn’t be long before she said something to you about it.”

And. Okay. Hold on. His _mother_ has thought that Lily’s been in love with him since _last summer_ and _hasn’t said anything to him about it?_

His mother thinks _Lily is in love with him?!_

He’s going to pass out.

“What?” He sputters, unable to think of _anything_ else to possibly say  “She was _not_ sweet on me that week! She was—We were just _friends_  then!”

“James, sweetheart. She asked you to her sister’s wedding. That isn’t exactly _subtle._ ”

This time, there’s no muffling the howl of laughter that Sirius lets loose.

* * *

It had since been proven that James Potter would do _anything_ for Lily Evans long before that day at James’s cottage.

And, yes, his ridiculous feelings for her were _part_ of it, but mostly James Potter would do anything for Lily Evans because she deserved it. She was a goddess who deserved the world, and he was but a mere mortal trying to offer whatever he could.

If they were working together and someone ordered a frappuccino, James would _always_ jump on it because he _knew_ that Lily hated making them. When the weather got colder, the moment that Lily began to shiver, James would hand off his gloves or his scarf to her without a second thought. Lily always got to play music in his car if they were driving somewhere, no matter how many times she played the same songs over and over. When they all went out to their favorite restaurant for dinner, _The Three Broomsticks,_ James would _always_ order the key lime pie so that Lily could have some—because she could _never_ decide between the key lime pie and the chocolate cake for dessert, no matter how many times they’d been there—even though he’d much rather have the ice cream sundae.

There was, quite literally, _nothing_ that James wouldn’t do for her, so when she’d looked over at him as they sat on the edge of his dock, kicking her legs back in forth the water— _a nervous tick,_ James knew—and asked him for a favor, he already knew the answer would be yes.

He heard her out first, though, _just in case._

“It’s just… My sister’s wedding is in a few weeks, and _I know_ it’s a lot to ask, but I think the only way it would be bearable would be to have a friend there and I was just wondering…”

“If I’d go to your sister’s wedding with you?” He asked, trying to make sure that he’d heard the question right before answering.

Lily nodded, almost looking sheepish, and tucked a strand of her hair that the warm, summer wind had blown loose back behind her ear. “You can say no, it’s okay.”

“No!” He blurted, but then realized how it sounded. “I mean, no to saying no. I wouldn’t say no, because I’d say yes.”

Lily pressed her lips together, working nobly to stifle a giggle at his expense, which he appreciated. His wounded his ego enough all on his own. “You _would_ say yes, or you _do_ say yes?”

“I do.” James confirmed, nodding as he flashed her a warm smile. It was a very different smile than the one he used to offer her, back when they’d barely known each other and he thought that the most important thing in the world was getting Lily Evans to fall in love with him. Looking back, he wanted to kick himself for being stupid enough to believe something like that.

“I think that’s Petunia’s line, actually.” Lily taunted, and James bumped his shoulder against hers in response.

“But imagine how ticked off she’d be if I said it at her wedding before she could. She probably deserves it after all the times she tried to say that _white_ is her _accent color._ ”

When Lily threw her head back and laughed, James just _knew._ He knew that being Lily Evans’s best friend was the only thing that mattered. He wholeheartedly believed it as they sat side by side on the edge of the dock, thinking up all the things they could do to torment Lily’s awful sister—who very much _did_ deserve it, if not for choice in color palettes then for making Lily cry by not allowing her to be a bridesmaid—and he believed it during Petunia’s wedding, when she’d grabbed him and dragged him out to the dance floor.

“I am _not_ dancing to this terrible music, Lily Jean Evans.” James had protested, stomping his foot for good measure.

He wasn’t serious, of course. He’d dance with Lily no matter what music was playing. He’d dance with Lily if there wasn’t any music playing, at all, but Lily had been sad all night.

She’d done a brilliant job of masking it, too kind and too selfless to do anything to make Petunia’s big day about herself in any way, but James knew her too well to be fooled. He saw the way she looked at Petunia’s bridesmaids, at her sister, at the relationship that they’d never have. And, because he’d do anything for Lily, he’d been trying just as hard all night to make her smile.

“Well, James Fleamont Potter, you’re in luck because the next song up is _my request_ , so it won’t be terrible.” Lily had challenged, loosely draping her arm that didn’t have a steady grip on his hand around his shoulder.

He’d wrapped an arm around her waist in response, moving without having to think about it. When he wasn’t thinking too hard about trying to impress her—which was becoming less and less frequent with every passing day—things between them really were so _easy_ and so _natural._

As they began to sway, the song—Lily’s song—began to play over the speakers. He recognized it immediately, giving an amused chuckle. “Rex Orange County? I thought you said Petunia hated him.”

“She does. Thinks his voice is weird.” Lily hummed, glancing up at him with a familiar, mischievous glint in her eyes. “If she asks, you have no idea who requested it. Got it, Potter?”

“Roger that, Evans.” He nodded, equally amused and impressed by her act of disobedience. Petunia was kind of a monster, though, so she fully deserved it. In a way, he almost felt proud.

The rest of the wedding seemed to slowly melt away as he danced with Lily, who was resting her head against his shoulder, her hair brushing against his chin. He allowed himself to enjoy it, for the time being, because Lily seemed content and that was enough for him.

That, and he really loved that song.

_Cause I am the one that’s waited this long, and I am the one that might get it wrong, and I am the one that will love you the way I’m supposed to._

Yes, he would do anything to make Lily Evans happy, and if that meant that letting go of all the feelings he held for her in order to be her best friend for the foreseeable future, then so be it.

* * *

 

 

 

### THIS IS IMPORTANT!!!

**Today** 5:16 PM

IT'S HAPPENING, TEAM.

 _Mar-MEAN McKinnon_  
??? What 's happening???

 _Emme-LAME Vance_  
Oh my GOD NOT ANOTHER GROUPCHAT.  
I already can't keep up with Hogwarts Hoes.

 _DORK-as Meadowes_  
CHECK UR PHONE MORE OFTEN MAYBE.  
But also YEAH what's happening???

IT.  
IT IS HAPPENING.  
OPERATION SCARLET STAG.

 _Mar-MEAN McKinnon_  
I can't be the only one who's still confused

 _Emme-LAME Vance_  
Sirius, you have to give us a little more to work with here.

 _Moony_  
Operation: James & Lily.

 _Emme-LAME Vance_  
OHHHHH  
Wait, REALLY??

You're kidding.  
None of you remember SCARLET STAG?

 _DORK-as Meadowes_  
OMGOMGOMGGGG HOW DO U KNOW?!?!?!  
THIS IS SO EXCITING I COULD DIE

 _Mar-MEAN McKinnon_  
Don't you think she would have told us?

 _Moony_  
Bold of you to assume she's figured out her feelings.

 _Mar-MEAN McKinnon_  
Okay... Fair.

 _Wormy_  
Well, James just told us...  
Lily's going home with him this weekend...  
And pretending to be his girlfriend...

 _DORK-as Meadowes_  
OMG!!!!!!!!!!!!

 _Emme-LAME Vance_  
What kind of teen drama movie bullshit??

 _Moony_  
James isn't convinced yet but... you know.

 _Mar-MEAN McKinnon_  
That they're literally THE WORST?  
Yes, we know.

You guys are on the case now.  
BUT DON'T BLOW OUR COVER.

 _Emme-LAME Vance_  
She's still in class but  
We'll let you know what we know  
As soon as we know it

Roger that.  
Over and out.

* * *

Lily had barely been in her room for ten minutes, trying to go through her closet and decide if she owns anything that will be suitable to pack for the weekend, when she’s interrupted by Dorcas screaming her name.

“Lily!”

She sighs, giving her clothes another, fast once-over before heading towards her door. “Yes?” She calls out in the hallway and leans against her door frame, unsure of where Dorcas was yelling from. It was just as likely to assume that she’s in Marlene’s room—which is to the left of Lily’s—as it is to assume she’s in her own room—which is to the right.

What she _isn’t_ expecting, is for Dorcas to pop out of _nowhere_ and be standing directly in front of her. She’s so shocked that she stumbles backwards, clutching onto her chest where her heart is pounding from the spike in adrenaline. “Sorry. Didn't mean to scare you.” Dorcas gives a dainty smile, seeming oblivious to the fact that she almost just _stopped Lily’s heart._

“Yes, well, that tends to happen when you sneak up on people.” Lily mutters sardonically, pulling herself back up to her full height and returning to the door. “Did you need something?”

“Oh, I just had a question.” Dorcas’s voice is innocent, which _usually_ spells out trouble. Dorcas is a pretty mild-mannered girl by nature, but her sugary-sweet tone and fluttering eyelashes are typically her friend’s main tool of getting what she wants.

Lily eyes her warily, trying to recall if she’s done anything recently that Dorcas might want revenge for but, besides insulting Colton Underwood’s quest for love, she can’t place anything. “Okay, shoot.”

“I just wanted to know how long you’ve been in love with James for.”

Lily coughs, eyes widening. How long has she _what?!_ “I beg your pardon.”

Then, Emmeline appears in her own door, right across from Lily, and the redhead jumps. She’s not sure _why_ her friends are trying to induce cardiac arrest in her, but she was a bad feeling it has something to do with a certain James Potter. “Yes.” Emmeline adds, her smile less innocent than Dorcas’s, and much more conniving. “I’d like to know that, too.”

“Me? In love with James Potter?” She repeats, just in case she hadn’t heard them wrong, and she’s even _more_ confused when they both nod.

Maybe Dorcas _did_ just give her a heart attack. Maybe she’s dead.

If she’d known that Hell would be her friends trying to convince her of her love for James Potter, she would have been _a lot_ nicer when she was alive.

She turns around quickly, checking for her body in a heap on the floor, but the carpet is bare behind her.

“What are you looking at?” Dorcas inquires, poking her head through the door to try and get a glimpse of whatever it is on the ground that has captured Lily’s attention. “Is _James_ in here?”

“Is he?” Emmeline demands, and Lily shoots her a look to tell her that _no, he is not._

If _she’s_ still herself, then it must be _them_ that are off. “Who are you and what did you do with my roommates?” She accuses, grabbing a hairbrush off her bookshelf and wielding it in the direction, warningly.

“Very terrifying, Lily.” Marlene drolls, and Lily swings around to try and keep _Marlene_ from sneaking up on her, too. She’s relieved to find that Marlene is still a good distance away, peering at her from inside her room. “You can do a lot of damage with a hairbrush, I’ve heard.”

“Marlene, listen to me carefully. Emmeline and Dorcas have been replaced with lookalikes. Or, potentially have been brainwashed. Or, are being controlled by aliens.”

She hears Marlene snicker, appearing in her own doorway shortly after with her arms crossed over her chest. “How do you figure?”

“They’re _delusional,_ Marls! They think that I’m in love with—”

“James Potter?” Marlene interjects, voice airy and inquisitive. Lily’s jaw drops. Even Marlene is in on this… this utterly _insane_ fantasy? “We heard about your date this weekend.”

Lily blinks once. Twice. And, _oh. Okay._ She _kind of_ understands where they’re coming from now, but the stark offense she feels at the fact that her best friends went ahead and made assumptions about her feelings and her intentions is still gnawing away inside. “I’m not _actually_ his date. I’m just pretending to be so that his family doesn’t torture him about his lonely, single life.”

She thinks the argument is pretty good. In fact, there’s nothing else to the matter, really, beside the fact that she’s just doing her friend a favor. Unfortunately, it doesn’t seem to shift any of the other three’s perspectives, if the way that they continue to stare at her, unwavering, is anything to go by.

“Is that what you’re telling yourself?” Emmeline finally asks, and Lily… Well, she’s mildly wounded at the insinuation. Do they think she’s _lying to them_?

Emmeline, Dorcas, and Marlene are all standing with their arms crossed over their chest, admittedly looking a bit menacing. Lily feels like she’s under a microscope, the subject of an experiment, so she lifts her chin defiantly and crosses her arms, too. “It’s the truth!”

Lily imagines this is what a stand-off in the Wild West probably felt like, and as soon as the thought enters her brain, her mind runs off with it.

 

> _She’s Lily “Wildfire” Evans, the fastest sharpshooter in all of the country, and there’s a new threat in town—Marlene “Snake Eyes” McKinnon, an outlaw that’s been roaming from town to town with her partner in crime, Emmeline “Night Rider” Vance, and her saloon bartender-turned-fugitive girlfriend, Dorcas “Dark Angel” Meadowes._
> 
> _Instead of their apartment hallway, they’re on the old, dusty road of the town. It’s so quiet that it almost seems abandoned, but Wildfire knows that the residents of the town are all there, but hiding away for safety. She knows, because she’s the one that told them to do it._
> 
> _She dismounts her horse—dark gray and probably named Thunder—and reaches for the gun strapped to her leg. “This town isn’t big enough for the four of us.”_
> 
> _There’s a gust of wind. A tumbleweed rolls through the space between them and the saloon doors fly open and slam closed again._

Marlene—real Marlene, unfortunately, not gun-slinging outlaw Marlene—cuts off Lily’s Old West fantasy before she can even get to the good part, where she beats them in a three-on-one quick draw with her eyes closed.

It’s really a shame.

“You expect us to believe that?” The pointed accusation only further reminds Lily that they _are not_ in a Wild West cowboy movie, and that this showdown is _real life._

She huffs. “Yes, I do! Because it’s true!”

Marlene narrows her eyes, watching Lily in a critical fashion as she advances from her bedroom and joins Dorcas outside of Lily’s door. Emmeline moves forward, too, the three of them standing in front of Lily like an impenetrable wall. She knows better than to underestimate her friends, so the advance is mildly intimidating, but she holds her ground.

“You, Lily Evans, are going to go home with James Potter and meet his _entire family_ while pretending to be in love with him for the _whole weekend_ , and you expect us to _really_ believe that your actions aren’t even the _tiniest bit_ motivated by having feelings for him?”

“Sweet is the swamp with its secrets, until we meet a snake.” Lily mutters, and she _hates_ that Marlene actually sounds like she has a point when she says it like that. She _detests_ it. She _despises_ it. Really, her friends should know her better than this and she’s a bit cross that they don’t.

“Quoting Shakespeare doesn’t count as a real answer, Lils.” Dorcas interjects, sounds like she’s just won the lottery or something—which, _no_ , she’s not allowed to think she’s won _._

“It wasn’t _Shakespeare,_ it was _Dickinson!_ ” Lily throws her hands into the air, exasperated. “And it’s about disillusioned into thinking you want marriage because of—” She cuts herself off, knowing that her friends couldn’t care less about the _genius_ that was Emily Dickinson.

In fact, it seems as though she’s only made things worse for herself, if the way Emmeline’s eyes light up is anything to go by. “Marriage? Now you’re thinking about _marrying_ —”

“No!” Lily rubs her temples, feeling a very intense migraine coming on. She loves these girls, she _really does,_ but she’s also confident that they _will_ be the death of her one of these days. “No, I’m not planning on marrying James! And, even if I _hypothetically did_ —” She stresses the word, wanting to make it very obvious that she was only entertaining the notion as a purely hypothetical one, for their sake, “—It would never work out _._ ”

“Why not?” Marlene asks, her demeanor shifting. She no longer seems like she’s trying to catch Lily in a lie, but instead is acting like a friend who _actually_ wants to know why Lily doesn’t think she and James would work as a couple. “ _Hypothetically_ , of course.”

 _This_ is Marlene, her best friend, and Lily thinks it’s nice of her to _finally join them._ “Even if I was _hypothetically_ in love with him, the first incredibly glaring issue I see is that James isn’t in love with me, so there’s that. Furthermore, let’s all keep in mind that—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Emmeline cuts her off just as she’s about to go off into _Lily Evans, Esq._ mode—which, really, is probably for the best because holding a Court of Law in her own apartment sounds taxing. “Hold up, did you just say that _James isn’t in love with you?_ ”

Emmeline’s look is nothing less than entirely incredulous, and it makes Lily do a double take. She glances to Marlene and Dorcas for support, but it appears that they all have been disillusioned to the same fate. “He isn’t!”

“Get real, Lily!” Dorcas has her hands on her hips, and although she looks more like a five-year-old trying to get her way than anything else, Lily knows that means she’s very confident in what she’s saying. “Of course he’s in love with you!”

“ _Come on._ Maybe he _used to_ have a little crush on me—back when he used to ask me out all the time, but he wasn’t _serious._ He doesn’t do that anymore! We’re _just friends._ ”

Marlene’s mouth twists, and Lily knows her well enough to be aware that she’s fighting the urge to roll her eyes, which is _insulting._ “I wish the Intervention Banner wasn’t still at the boys apartment.”

Lily gives her a tight look. The last time that the Intervention Banner—if it could even be called that, because _really_ it was only pieces of printer paper attached to some string with the word _INTERVENTION_ painted on them—had been used was when Sirius thought that getting highlights was a good idea. She _doesn’t need an intervention_ for being _sensible._ Also, they retired the banner for good when the finale of _How I Met Your Mother_ ruined the entire show. So. “What on _earth_ could I possibly need an intervention for?”

“I don’t think you understand what _friendship_ is.” Marlene replies plainly. And, okay. That one stings a little. “Friends don’t ask friends to be their date to their sister’s wedding.”

“Yes they do! All the time!”

“But you didn’t ask any of us, who actually know your family.” Dorcas points out, and Lily crosses her arms.

“Because you all _hate_ Petunia. James hadn’t even met her!”

Lily’s logic does not deter Marlene. “Friends don’t pretend to be their friend’s _serious girlfriend._ ”

“Good ones do!” Everyone is silent for a few moments, and the ceasefire makes Lily feel like she can _breathe again._ “If you’re quite finished, I have things to get done, so.”

Lily turns on her heels, retreating back to her room, and Emmeline’s voice sounds from the hallway again. “I thought we were friends, Lily.”

She sounds sad, and Lily’s gut instinct to take care of everyone around her kicks into high-gear. Whether her friends think that she’s lying to them or not, she won’t let them believe that they aren’t cared for. “Emmeline, _of course_ we are. We’re best friends.” She would _never_ try and hide anything from them, they have to know that.

“Well, you’ve never pretended to be _my_ fake girlfriend before, so now I’m not so sure.” Emmeline’s mock-sadness morphs into a mischievous smile, and Lily groans.

“I take it back. We’re not friends. You’re the worst and I literally hate you.”

“Since you _clearly_ underestimate how much you actually love people, I’m going to assume that means I’m a great, platonic friend of yours.”

“ _EMMELINE_.”

* * *

Lily was a big fan of making lists.

She made daily lists of what she needed to get done, weekly lists of what groceries they needed in the apartment, and monthly lists of her accomplishments. Out of all the lists she made, however, her favorite was _Lily Evans’s List of Great Grievances with the Universe_ —which included, but was not limited to: nobody truly appreciated all the great music that came from the 80’s, there was no such thing as a pen that never ran out of ink, her best friends made her watch _The Bachelor,_ people still ordered frozen coffee in the middle of winter, and, _of course,_ the fact that _James Potter had an inexplicable ability to be good at everything._

That last item had a sub-list of all the things that James had _no right_ to be successful at but excelled in anyway, and it seemed to Lily, as she stood in the grandiose white tent—which was completely unnecessary because the weather was _fine_ —that swallowed the majority of her backyard, there was something new to add to that list.

_Being a wedding date._

And, _okay._ Yes, she _had_ been the one to ask him to come to her sister’s wedding, so she’d figured he wouldn’t be completely terrible company, but she certainly hadn’t expected for him to show up and charm the pants off of _everyone and their grandmother_.

Literally. She was pretty sure that she saw her Great Aunt Ethel making eyes at him over dinner. Which was _disgusting,_ but also _vaguely impressive._ Now she just had to hope that Great Aunt Ethel didn’t write Lily out of her will in favor of James.

The only person who didn’t seem to go crazy over James was Petunia, which Lily had already anticipated. In fact, she’d warned James far in advance to expect to receive the cold-shoulder from the _beaming bride_ because _Lily_ brought him, and if Lily liked something then that was all the reason Petunia needed to hate it.

Vernon Dudley—Petunia’s recently acquired _bore of a husband_ —also seemed disdainful of James, though Lily could not say if it was for reasons of solidarity, or because he actually hated all things that brought others joy. Both were equally likely.

Regardless, everyone with any good sense about them found themselves thoroughly enamored by James—which was all fun and dandy until Lily had to begin letting every aunt and cousin down easy when they came running to Lily to tell her _how lovely her boyfriend was._ They looked particularly crestfallen when they heard the truth, but most of them refused to depart from her side without assuring her that _fate had a funny way of working itself out,_ or something like that.

Which, like, Lily _knew_ that they were all under the impression that she and James would fall in love someday, and when she looked at it objectively, it didn’t seem like a terrible idea.

James had kissed the back of his mother’s hand when he met her because he knew that she was sick and didn’t want to get his germs too close. James had talked for at least an hour straight with her father about Arsenal, even though she knew that he was a _die hard_ Manchester  United fan and he’d _never_ hesitated to slam _her_ for supporting Arsenal. James had feigned interest in Vernon’s tedious ramblings of his job in data entry _and_ deflected all of his snobbish comments when he learned James was studying _marketing_ until Lily managed to intercept and drag him away.

He’d been a perfect gentleman _all night,_ so, _yes_ , she understood why they all wanted them to end up together. If James wasn’t her best friend then maybe she would have even entertained the notion, but there was no use in living in a fantasy.

While Lily had no problem dismissing the comments from distant relatives—who she probably wouldn’t see for another handful years, anyway—she found it was much more challenging to dismiss the comments of the people who knew her much better.

Like her mother, for instance.

Siobhan Evans was an incredibly gentle woman and potentially the _least meddling person_ Lily had ever met. She knew that she’d never say anything if it was completely necessary to hear, which made her comments about James even harder to swallow.

“I like James. He’s a good guy, Lily.” Her mother confided in her, whispering it like it was a secret.

Lily followed the trail of her mum’s sparkling eyes, landing upon James, who was letting one of Lily’s little cousins stand on his toes as he twirled her around in a silly dance. “He’s a great guy.” Lily agreed, unable to keep the fond smile off her face. “And a great friend.”

The comment was pointed, despite the fact that she’d already told her mum that she was bringing a friend as her plus one so Siobhan was already _well aware_ of where James and Lily stood.

“A great friend.” Her mother mused, a smile on her face that looked like she was responding to a joke that only she heard. “I had a friend like James when I was your age. I worked at the library and he used to come by to check out books every day, though I think it was just for the sake of talking to me. He was a _menace_ at first, always keeping me from all the other work I had to do, but he started to grow on me. Then we started spending time together outside of the library, and I’d realized I’d pegged him all wrong. We became the best of friends, he and I. Once he offered to drive me home after my evening shift ended, and when he dropped me off at the door my _mother_ thought that he was my boyfriend, but I thought… there was no way he’d ever fancy me, I was just his best friend, but do you know what I did?”

Lily tipped her head to the side a little, deeply wrapped up in the story that her mother was telling. She’d never heard it before, and she was invested now. “What did you do?”

“I told him how I felt about him. It was the scariest moment of my life, I swear it, but I told him straight to his face that I was beginning to fancy him. Do you know what _he_ did?”

“What?”

“He married me.”

Lily gasped. “You always told me that you and dad just met at school and began to date!”

“Technically we did.” Siobhan reminded her, and Lily rolled her eyes at the technicality. “The point is, you never know when a few, terrifying minutes of courage will end up in…” Her mum waved her hands all around the space, and Lily knew what she meant. When a few, terrifying moments of courage would end up in thirty years of marriage, two children, a wedding, _a happily ever after._ “You’re beautiful and you’re brave and you can do anything you put your mind to Lily Jean—including telling someone you fancy them.”

The words were on the tip of her tongue, about to fall from her lips. _I don’t fancy him._ “I…” At the same moment she began to speak, though, she looked over towards James and he caught her gaze immediately, flashing her a bright smile, and she _couldn’t make herself say it._ “Thank you, mum.”

The thing was, maybe she _did_ have a little, tiny bit of a crush on James Potter, but she was far from special for it.

Every girl who walked into Hogwarts Brewery fell victim to his charming smile and was sucked into the casual conversation that would flow effortlessly from his lips. She watched beautiful girl after beautiful girl be at the receiving end of his blatantly flirtatious remarks, the ones he _used_ to aim at her. She pretended her annoyance at watching girls giggle and twirl their hair at him was because it distracted James from the work he was supposed to be helping her with, and not because of the hard knot that formed in her stomach that felt too much like jealousy to be comfortable.

Lily was not _one of those girls,_ and she’d be damned if she ever made herself look like a fool on the account of James Potter.

She was so wrapped up in her thoughts, she didn’t realize that James was approaching her until he was already settled at her side, touching her shoulder in a fashion so gentle that it almost ached. “Alright, Evans?” He asked, his features unmistakably careful and cautious.”Is this about…”

He followed her gaze, and though she’d truthfully been zoned out while thinking, her forlorn eyes were now focused on Petunia laughing over something that probably wasn’t even funny with one of her bridesmaids. And though, yes, she was still a bit hurt that Petunia hadn’t allowed her to be a bridesmaid, that wasn’t what was capturing her thoughts at the moment.

It was a good cover though, so she nodded, thanking her lucky stars that she _didn’t_ have to tell James what she was _actually_ thinking about.

“Well, I think you lucked out on that one. I mean, those bridesmaid dresses are _hideous._ ” James shuddered, and Lily couldn’t help but burst out in laughter. He was right—the frilly, lavender monstrosities that Petunia had chosen were _terrible_ , and a part of her did feel smug that she didn’t have to don one for the night. Her own dusty blue dress was much more simple and much more her speed. “You look much prettier in this one.”

Lily’s heart _actually_ fluttered at the compliment, though she was quick to catch it and refuse to let it show by instead feigning offense. “You don’t think I’d look pretty in the other one, then? Terrible wedding date, you are.”

“Of course you would.” James amended, the corner of his lips tugging up in a smile, breaking his overly apologetic charade. “Just in a _Little Bo Peep_ sort of way.”

Lily snorted, his comparison spot on. He always knew exactly what to say to spin her mood around, and he was _always_ there for her.

James had been by her side that night at Petunia’s wedding, when she needed the support, and he’d been by her side at a more important time, too—in October when she’d gotten the call from her dad telling her she needed to come home and say goodbye.

He had been there, _right there_ , when she hung up the phone and crumpled to her knees. He’d taken two weeks off of classes and from work and drove her home without her even _asking_ him to do all that for her, because she didn’t have a car and there were no trains until the next evening.

He didn’t say a word when she’d grabbed for his hand a few minutes into the drive. He just let her hold on tight for the rest of the way back to Cokeworth, like he understood that he was the only thing tethering her down to the world.

He let her hide her tears away in his shirt, holding her to his chest when, a few terrible days later, the hospice woman told her that her mother had _passed away peacefully, in her sleep._ He let her wail, he let her be angry, and he let her be silent—all with the most abundant patience and compassion that Lily had ever seen.

James had stayed up with her _all night_ as she tried to write her eulogy for the funeral, listening to her read it over and over again as she continued to change it, and cried with her each time. The rest of their friends came for the service, too, and none of them said a word when she brought James to sit with her in the front row.

“For moral support.” She had said quietly, and he nodded in response, taking her hand and not letting go until it was her turn to speak. After she gave her eulogy, he pressed a kiss to the top of her head and whispered, “You were perfect. She’d be so proud.”

She’d known that James was her friend for a long while, now. It wasn’t a new development, but she knew that there was more now. He’d seen her at her most vulnerable, but he never looked at her like she was weak. He was her _best friend_ and now, more than ever, she couldn’t imagine her life without him.

He didn’t have to stay, but he _did_ , and that meant everything. She was grateful that he was the one there with her, and she knew that it was exactly what her mum would have wanted, too.

She had told her so the last day of her life, when Lily laid beside her in bed, curled up like she was a child. Her mother didn’t spend much time awake, anymore, so it had stunned Lily to hear her voice—a whisper so faint it was like she was already gone. “Be brave, Lily Jean.” She had whispered, mustering the strength to open her eyes for one beautiful, fleeting moment that Lily _cherished._ “You can do anything you put your mind to.”

It was a simple affirmation anyone else who might have heard it—like James, who refused to move far from wherever Lily was, who was probably standing outside the door at that moment—but Lily _knew._ She remembered the first time her mum spoke those words to her, that night at Petunia’s wedding, while her daughter admired James from afar.

Lily knew what her mum meant, and she _swore_ she’d do right by her.

Somehow.

* * *

 

 

### LILY AND JAMES ARE THE WORST 2K19

**You** named the conversation “LILY AND JAMES ARE THE WORST 2K19"

**Today** 6:43 PM

Well, we figured it out.

 _$iriu$_  
Okay, AND???

 _DOE LOML_  
LILY DOESN’T THINK JAMES IS IN LOVE WITH HER.

 _Remus!!!_  
You’re kidding

 _MAR LOVER_  
We WISH we were.

 _$iriu$_  
How could she NOT KNOW?!  
EVERYONE KNOWS.  
MCGONAGALL EVEN KNOWS.

 _P-Diddy_  
Not this again

 _DOE LOML_  
Not WHAT again??!

 _P-Diddy_  
Doesn’t this feel familiar to any of you?

I’m with you, Pete  
I’m having deja-vu

 _MAR LOVER_  
Of when Sirius and Remus couldn’t realize they were in love because same

 _$iriu$_  
More like when you and Dorcas couldn’t realize YOU were in love

Oh boy

 _DOE LOML_  
He’s right, Marls  
There isn’t enough whining and moping on Lily’s end for them to be like Sirius and Remus

 _Remus!!!_  
I take offense to that

 _P-Diddy_  
Remus, you know you whined just as much as Sirius did.

Sometimes more

 _Remus!!!_  
Has anyone ever told you guys that you’re the worst friends ever?

Yes actually  
Lily did  
TODAY AFTER I TRIED TELLING HER SHE AND JAMES ARE IN LOVE

 _$iriu$_  
They really ARE THE WORST.  
They’re never going to figure it out either, they’re too subborn

 _MAR LOVER_  
£20 they confess before the weekend is over

 _$iriu$_  
YOU’RE ON.

* * *

Over the course of the days leading up to their departure for his home, James gets over his idea that the universe is hell-bent on destroying his life and actually manages to look forward to the _Potter Family Extravaganza_ for the first time in his life. _Really_.

Admittedly, it’s mostly because Lily proposes the _genius_ idea of upstaging his irksome cousin Marty’s engagement by being the most _sickeningly perfect couple ever_. It won’t be hard, because James is already kind of the favorite and Lily is the very definition of the exact girl you want to bring home, and James is _nothing_ if he’s not fully devoted to the cause of a spectacular prank—feelings for Lily Evans _be damned._

They get a bit carried away with it at work on Thursday, having nearly committed to the idea of staging a fake wedding proposal of their own when Remus intervenes to remind them that Euphemia only thinks they’ve been dating for a few weeks, and having to admit to breaking off an engagement would be more embarrassing than being single. Which, he’s _right,_ but James still tells him he’s a buzzkill.

When Lily’s goes back into the kitchen to check on her pastries, Remus shoots him a look that seems to say _I told you that Lily is in love with you, you insufferable git._

James, of course, gives him one right back with that means _Shove off, you know we’re not actually getting married._

It’s just the two of them closing that night, meaning it’s the perfect time to solidify their plan before they leave the next morning. James is thankful to escape Remus’s judgement, for the time being.

“So, we’ve only been together for like a few weeks.” James begins as he works on wiping down the counters. “Since right before this term started.”

Lily looks at him across the shopping, though she continues to sweep beneath tables. “Right. But I started having feelings for you over the summer, which is why I asked you to my sister’s wedding.”

James snorts. “That’s going to make my mum the happiest woman alive. She actually thought you fancied me after you asked, she told me over the phone the other day.”

“That’s only fair, my _entire family_ thought you were my boyfriend at the wedding.” Lily says it so casually, but James gives her a look of surprise.

“You never told me that!” If he wasn’t so adamant on refusing to let his emotions play any role in this weekend, he might take that to heart. _New James_ would never let himself believe that both of their families thinking they were together means something, though, so he shrugs it off the same way that Lily shrugs off his accusation. “Anyway, I’ve been trying to win you over since we first met.”

“Love at first sight.” Lily pretends to swoon, clutching her broom to her chest like she’s a princess in a cartoon film. “They’ll eat it up. Especially when they hear about all the years you spent trying to win me over.”

“I think the fact that I started working at the coffee shop to get to spend more time with you will seal the deal.” Except, that’s true. It’s all true, and too dangerously real. Except for the major hang-up that Lily isn’t in love with him, of course. That’s what he has to remember.

“The story of the time we slow danced together, and how I just _knew_ I had to be with you will be icing on the _future wedding cake of their dreams_.”

“Careful, if they get too attached to the idea they’ll take you wedding dress shopping.”

“Petunia ruined her shopping day by only trying on ugly dresses. Maybe I _will_ let them get attached to the idea, just so I can see what some decent ones look like.”

Lily is starting to seem very invested in the idea, and James’s brain starts screaming at him to _ABORT MISSION_ before it’s too late. “We’re not engaged, remember?”

“Only a minor hiccup.” Lily waves her hand, dismissively. “Doesn’t Euphemia want you to be in a serious relationship, anyway? What’s more serious than planning to plan a wedding, darling?”

And. Okay. She’s right. It’s all in good fun, and Remus isn’t here to give him any more judging looks, so he allows himself to play along. “I suppose you’re right. A wedding in the late spring would be lovely, dear, don’t you think?”

“Perfectly _divine_!” Lily agrees before she sweeps up the last of her dust pile and joins him behind the counter. “Real question, how much PDA are we going to subject your poor family to?” Her word choice suggests it’s a terrible thing, but the grin on her face says otherwise.

James forgets how to breathe for a minute, but tries to recover the best he can. “I suppose however much it takes to show-up Marty and his fiancee.” Katie, or Karen, or something like that.

“What if they kiss?” James has to snort because Lily sounds like a _child_ when she says that. It’s even enough to distract him from the way his stomach lurches at the idea of _kissing Lily Evans._

Except, they can’t. They won’t. “We’ll say you’re shy.”

“You’re saying we’re supposed to be _grossly in love_ and _not kiss_?” Lily asks, eyebrow raised and voice unconvinced. She takes a step towards him.

And, _okay._ Two can play at this game.

James raises his eyebrow right back at her and steps in closer, too, straightening up slightly. “If you wanted to kiss me so badly, Evans, you could just say so.”

“Sounds to me like you’re afraid of a little kiss, Potter.” She takes another step in, and the space behind the counter is already crowded to begin with—James _knows_ because he spends most of his shifts stumbling over and running into his coworkers when they’re in a to get drinks made—so now she’s starting to invade his space.

James doesn’t back down. A bit of _friendly competition_ is nothing to him—or, at least, it’s nothing to _New James,_ who is decidedly _not_ in love with Lily for real, only for pretend. If he backs down _now,_ it’ll only be suspicious. “I’m not afraid of _anything_.”

“Careful with saying things you don’t mean, Potter.” Neither of them is willing to break their eye-contact, but Lily’s green eyes are _piercing,_ and it feels like she’s looking straight into his soul. She’s close enough now that he could reach out and touch her now, and there’s nothing he can say to refute her statement—because he’s _fucking terrified_ of kissing her and he doesn’t want to _lie to her_ —so instead he reaches a hand forward and to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. Her breath hitches the tiniest bit, so slight that James only knows it happens because he’s  _so in tune with her_ he doesn’t think he could miss a single thing right now _._

She’s so close, _so, so close,_ and his head is _swimming._ He can’t even fully process what it  would mean to possibly kiss Lily Evans _right now, in this moment,_ because the squeak of McGonagall’s office door opening sounds in the distance and they quickly split before she can catch them in any sort of compromising position.

They make themselves busy quickly, and if McGonagall notices something is off, she doesn’t say anything about it. All she does is tell them to have a good evening and reminds them to turn off the lights before they leave, which is nothing new because she trusts them enough after three years of working for her to close up on their own.

“So, is leaving tomorrow at noon good with you?” James asks, breaking the silence, and just like that they’re _LilyandJames_ again, as if they weren’t _centimeters_ away from kissing a few minutes ago.

Which is fine. It’s totally, completely fine.

* * *

 

 

### Moon Boy

**Today** 9:22 PM

Remus, I’m IN A CRISIS.  
PLEASE HELP ME.  
I’m BEGGING YOU.

What?????  
What is it???  
Did you kill someone????  
Are you in prison???  
Please tell me you’re not in prison

Of course I’m not in PRISON.

Okay then??? What’s the crisis????

Okay just remember this is a no-judgement zone  
And that I’ve always been a very good friend to you  
And that I am PANICKING so MOCKING ME WILL NOT HELP.

WHATS THE CRISIS

Okay well tonight  
While we were closing the coffee shop  
I might have possibly  
Maybe  
Almost kissed James  
Almost

LILY.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hopefully you all enjoyed that little glimpse of lily and james as a fake couple because STARTING NEXT CHAPTER ITS ALL FAKE RELATIONSHIP GOODNESS ALL THE TIME!!! also next chapter is when we get to meet MY FAVORITE CHARACTER IN THE FLESH, the one and only EUPHEMIA POTTER !!!! so make sure you stay tuned!!!
> 
> ps, thank you to everyone who left a kudos or bookmarked this so far!! you make me smile! :-)


	3. Of Schemes and Secrets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, a couple of quick things here!!
> 
> 1) James Potter being a POC is so, SO important to me and it's definitely something that I feel is very important to include in my narrative. Specifically, I've written him to have Punjabi heritage, which is a culture I hold near and dear to my heart thanks to my best friend and his family. A lot of the elements of his family are based off of them, so I want to make it clear that this portrayal comes from a complete place of love and reverence.  
> 2) Lily's Great Roadtrip Playlist is, of course, LINKED!! It's not quite the COMPLETE playlist, but it's enough for you to get a bit of a taste of her taste in music!
> 
> OKAY!! I hope you all enjoy!

 Lily Evans has _no fucking clue_ what she’s doing. It’s a sensation that is both uncomfortable and unfamiliar for the typically put-together girl, who _usually_ has Plans A through G—at the _bare minimum_ —ready for any and every possible situation.

For Lord’s sake, she’d _literally_ crafted a ten year plan at the age of fifteen that carefully mapped out each and every step she’d take to become a successful attorney. And she’s been doing pretty damn well sticking to it, for that matter.

The only problem is that the ten year plan had absolutely not factored in possibly and accidentally developing feelings for her best friend, only a handful of months before they were supposed to graduate. She didn’t have _any_ plans, not a single one, that would help her with that one.

But James Potter never adhered to her expectations, not really.

She’d spent the entirety of Thursday night—once she’d locked herself into her room and finally managed to deflect Remus’s insistent texts that begged her to tell him _everything,_ because she _really_ didn’t want to think about the stomach wrenching feeling that was _almost kissing James Potter_ at the moment—trying to think of something, _anything,_ she could do to get herself sorted out as quickly as possible.

And, no, she wasn’t _proud_ of it, but she did manage to figure out _something_ after she’d broken and found herself a midst of _embarrassingly teenage girl_ google searches of things along the lines of _‘Am I actually falling for my best friend or am I just going mental???’_ there was one result that stood out in particular.

_The Tests Every Girlfriend Should Give Her Boyfriend._

While, _yes,_ some of the tests were decidedly inconsequential, others were decidedly _not._ And maybe it _is_ a bit silly of her to try and test if she and James are truly compatible, the idea of passing or failing on concrete terms is the only thing that appeals to Lily’s logic-driven brain enough to still the frenzy of thoughts overtaking her, so.

If testing them is what it takes to help her determine if _anything_ about this—about them—makes sense, or if she’s merely become victim to her best friends wildest fantasies then… so be it.

He’d already passed the first test—the mum test—because James couldn’t have won over her mum anymore than he did, even if he’d _literally_ offered to go fetch a star straight out of the sky for her.

So, one point to James.

The treacherously long drive to _the Potter Estate_ —as James had put it, despite Lily’s snort at how _pompous_ he sounded—Lily decided, was the _perfect_ opportunity to begin her next test. The taste test.

As vaguely disappointing as it was, it did _not_ involve getting to actually taste James. Though, now that she had _seen_ the strong line of his firm-set jaw _up close_ the night before, with a tangible tension between the two of them, she’s only _slightly_ ashamed to say that she’s most _definitely_ thought about her lips against his her lips against his rich, bronze skin.

Oh, she’s _definitely_ slipping into delirium, but it’s _far_ too late to do anything about it now.

Point being, what the taste test _actually is_ is Lily trying to determine how much their tastes in books, movies, et cetera differs. Which, like, James is the _most easy-going person ever,_ as far as picking movies or shows to watch goes. She’s never heard him complain about _anything_ that _anyone_ chose, which is admirable to her, really. He even requested to borrow some of her poetry books after proclaiming that he was _shit with poetry_ and _wanted to be more well-versed in it._

However, if there was one thing that could drive even the most imperturbable of men crazy, Lily _knew_ that it was her taste in music. Although she would hold her ground on the seventies and eighties producing _the best music in the history of music,_ it was seldom that she found anyone agreed with her, and since she _always_ got aux-privileges in James’s car he’d been subjected to quite a lot of it in their time as friends.

 _[The Great Roadtrip Playlist,](https://open.spotify.com/user/kindahannah/playlist/1gOlBNulknn4Kh4EMtO0Xg?si=h-NBWIvyRMuoInpKVX8pMg) _which she’d crafted for this very occasion, was unquestionably the make-it or break-it point.

James, much to Lily’s chagrin, was remarkably enthusiastic about the music she was playing. He belted out _every word_ to the songs she had already figured he’d know— _Africa, Hungry Like the Wolf, Come On Eileen, Footloose_ —and he’d _also_ sang along, just as passionately and spot-on with the lyrics, to the ones she _didn’t_ think he’d know.

His only remark came in the form of a small snort when the _iconic_ drum intro of _My Sharona_ begins to seep through the speakers.

“What?” She questions, narrowing her eyes slightly at him, because if _My Sharona_ is where he draws the line then they are _not meant to be_ . This is, arguably, the _best song of all time,_ and holds the uncontested position of _Lily’s most favorite song ever._ So. “Do you have a problem with this song?”

He’s drumming his fingers against the steering wheel in perfect precision with the instrument in the song, so Lily’s not convinced he hates it, but she still has to make sure. “No, it’s just that this is the sixth time you’ve played it.”

“It is _not_ the sixth time I’ve played it!”

“You’re right, this might actually be the _seventh._ ”

And, well, it _might_ be the sixth time she’s played it. But they’ve been in the car for _two and a half hours now,_ and if any song deserves to be played six times then it’s absolutely _My Sharona._ “Well, it’s a _good song,_ James, and it’s—”

“—Your favorite, I know. Your mum’s favorite, too.” James finishes for her, and Lily is silent for a moment because, _no,_ it’s not unreasonable for him to assume that it’s her favorite if she’s played it _six bloody times,_ but the fact that he knew it was her _mum’s favorite_ means that he’s remembering things that _she_ doesn’t even recall telling him.

James _freaking_ Potter is passing tests she isn’t even aware that she’s giving. Or maybe he _actually_ is perfect. Both are equally annoying.

“I can change it, if you want. Six times might be excessive.” She hums, trying to distract herself from her _actually flawless_ fake boyfriend before she gets too in her head about it.

James makes a nearly frantic noise of protest, and Lily has to press her lips together tightly to keep her laughter contained. “Don’t even think about it, Evans! Nobody is allowed to disrespect Doug Fieger in _this_ car.”

“I won’t skip it then, Scout’s honor.” Lily promises in dramatized solemnity, hand lying over her heart.

“You _can,_ however, go ahead and play _Faith_ next. This is a place of respect for George Michael, too.”

She definitely _hasn’t_ played _Faith_ yet, which means that James already knows exactly what songs are on her playlist without having to look. _Of course he does._

Lily queues the song up for him and then goes straight to her notes, swiping on the list tests she’d compiled the night before and pressing her thumb into the scarlet _delete_ icon without hesitation because it _doesn’t matter_ what stupid test she poses. James Potter is, objectively, the perfect boyfriend for Lily Evans.

_Good._

When George Michael’s voice begins to croon James’s song request, Lily can’t help but think that it’s a fitting one for the way she feels. Hopefully James isn’t trying to send her a subliminal message.

* * *

“You’re kidding.”

That’s the first thing that Lily says to him when they get out of the car after arriving to his house, and, _yes,_ he’d already anticipated that reaction from her but it’s still a little bit comical so he doesn’t try _too hard_ to hide his snort.

“I _did_ try to tell you…” James shrugs, heading towards the trunk to unload their bags. _He had._ He’d told her that it was an estate, not to _brag_ but to be upfront about it. In his eyes, pretending to be modest about what he _knew_ was excessive was just a disguised form of being arrogant. “Besides, it’s a family house. It’s been owned and lived in by generation after generation of us Potters.”

“This is a _castle,_ James. _A small castle._ ”

“I wouldn’t go _that far._ ”

“You have a _fountain_!”

And, okay, _yes._ There _is_ a fountain. “Yeah, but an ugly one.”

Lily finally un-tenses enough to laugh, giving him a playful punch to the shoulder as she comes to stand beside him. “Okay, _Rich Boy._ ”

“It isn’t even my money!” He objects, and it’s _true._ It _isn’t_ his money. It’s almost _all_ old money that’s been invested and saved intelligently enough to extend from generation to generation—with the exception, of course, of what his father made when he invented _Sleekeazy’s Hair Gel_ and the subsequent hair-care line that came with it. “Once I inherit good-old Fleamont’s company, _then_ it’ll be my money. So long as I don’t fuck it up enough to go bankrupt, that is.”

Lily rolls her eyes, looking like she wants to continue to go at it about whether or not he’s rich—which, yes _and_ no—but she’s distracted by James snagging her suitcase before she can get to it and subsequently holds it out of her reach. “I can carry my own bag, you nutter.”

“I’m sure you can, m’lady, but Euphemia will rip me a new one if she spots me _not_ carrying them for you. You know, chivalry and all that.” And, okay, _maybe_ his intentions of wanting his mum to believe he’s a top-notch boyfriend are _slightly_ selfish, but at least Lily is benefitting from them.

Lily looks thoughtful as she watches him hoist her duffle bag around his shoulder, tapping her chin. “You mean to tell me that you _don’t_ have a butler to do it for you?”

“Manfred gets every third weekend off to visit his family in Gloucestershire.” James replies without missing a beat, though a grin splits over his features and destroys any semblance of being serious when Lily’s jaw drops. “I’m kidding! There’s no butler.”

Lily looks a little relieved at the admission but the underlying trepidation is still _very much there._ He knows her too well to look past any of her anxious ticks—the way she’s rubbing her collarbone, especially, is something that she _only_ does when she’s nervous about something—and he _softens_ immediately. It isn’t hard to guess what she’s highly strung about at the moment, either, considering that she’s a few seconds away from being thrown head-first into her role of his girlfriend.

“They’re going to go _mad_ over you, Lily Jean.” He says it like a fact, not an affirmation, as he throws his arm around her shoulders and begins to walk with her towards the front door. There isn’t even a _fraction_ of a doubt in his mind that they’ll adore her. How could they not? “Everyone who ever meets you does.”

“Everyone?” Lily repeats, sounding like there’s a specific clarification she’s searching for, but before he can figure it out, his mum comes bursting out of the house.

“You’re here! _Finally!_ I was beginning to think you’d _forgotten_ about us!” Euphemia cries out, holding a glass of wine in one hand and hoisting what James _knows_ is the sari she reserves for the _most_ special occasions in the other so that she can rush down the front steps to greet them properly.

And, well, James did have to inherit his _Dramatic Gene_ from _someone._

Euphemia releases her hold on her dress in favor of smoothing over Lily’s hair affectionately once she gets close enough. “Lily, dear, you’re just as beautiful as I remembered!” She coos, as if it had been _years_ instead of _months_ since they’d last seen each other.

“Wow, mum, I really missed you, too!” James grumbles, but he can’t _actually_ be upset—not when Lily is _beaming_ at his mum like that.

The fact that Euphemia _also_ makes cousin Marty come and take their bags so that James can introduce everyone to his _lovely girlfriend_ doesn’t hurt, either.

Except, well, it’s _game time, now._ The pressure is _on._

“Everyone, meet Lily. Lily, meet… _Everyone._ ” James introduces, and he really _does_ feel terrible that he’s pulled away from her side by everyone wanting to hug him—and hug _her,_ because the Potter family is _very_ big on hugging, regardless of whether they’ve only known someone for approximately twelve seconds or not.

She seems to be holding her own quite well, though she does fleetingly look at James with an expression that seems to convey dismay at trying to learn everyone’s names. He offers her one back to let her know that he’ll help her out if she forgets, which she _seems_ to understand. They _are_ pretty talented at communicating entirely in eyebrow raises.

The interrogations begin almost immediately after they make their way through introductions, hardly even giving them time to move from the entry hall to the living room.

Which, _yes_ James had fully expected—because he _knows_ how nosy his family is—but it still makes him incredibly nervous. Now everything is _less_ about figuring out how to deal with Lily pretending to be his girlfriend and _more_ about being caught in a lie by his _entire family_.

Lily must be able to sense his nerves, because she seeks out his hand for a comforting embrace the moment that they take a seat on the couch, his relatives all flocking around them.

“How long have you two been together?” His Aunt Theodosia asks, leaning forwards in her seat.

“A few weeks.” They both answer at once and everyone else in the room begins to coo over them. Lily glances in his direction, trying to suppress a laugh with a fond smile as she moves in closer to him. James lifts his arm, instinctively, and Lily tucks herself into his side.

Cue more fussing from the family about how _precious_ they are. James has to hide his snort of laughter in Lily’s hair.

This is remarkably _easy_ so far. Granted, all they’ve done is sit together on a couch, which they do all the time. The point still stands, though. He thinks he’ll be able to do this, no problem.

“Lily, dear, what are you studying again?” Euphemia asks, and James _knows_ she’s only pretending to have forgotten. She wants everyone to know that _her son_ has somehow managed to win over a brilliant lawyer-to-be.

“Law.” Lily smiles, and James squeezes her shoulder. “Well, law and English. I’m majoring in both because Cambridge is pretty competitive, so I’m hoping it’ll set me apart a bit.”

“You’re studying at Cambridge?” Aunt Althea, Marty’s mother, is doing a terrible job at hiding her envy. James feels as smug as Euphemia looks—which, maybe it’s morally ambiguous of his mother to put him and Lily in the middle of her rivalry with her sister, but Marty is _equally_ as insufferable as his mother.  And he’s the one who chose to marry a girl who dropped out of uni to be a hand model. So.

“Fingers crossed, yes. I applied in November, but they don’t send out acceptances until March, so…”

James can feel Lily tense a little. He remembers when she applied vividly. She was a _mess,_ existing as a living, breathing human purely on account of the abundance of espresso shots she’d been consuming. They had quite a row when James had tried to get her to _sleep._ Even though she’d vehemently opposed the idea—because she _had too much to do, James_ to possibly think of sleeping—she ended up passing out on his couch a few hours later. He’d covered her up with a blanket, not wanting to wake her even just to take her back to her own apartment, down the hall. She’d also been in remarkably better spirits when she woke up the next morning, and the _immense amount of stress_ she was under was the _sole_ reason he had refrained from saying said _I told you so._

“You’re going to get in.” He assures her, his confidence not rooted in being a supportive fake boyfriend, but instead in being Lily’s best friend, who _knows her._ “There’s no way you’ll get rejected. You’re getting double firsts, with honours.”

Lily ducks her head a little, but James can still see the faint hint of a blush on her cheeks at the reminder of her accomplishments. She’s not the one to typically be the center of attention—it’s hard to be with the most dramatic friends ever, himself included—and she’s certainly never been the type to boast about herself. Still, he thinks she deserves it. Probably more than anyone else.

“Double firsts? That’s incredible, sweetheart!” Euphemia exclaims, sounding like the epitome of a proud mum. Lily smiles at her, almost shy. “I assume you’re the reason why James’s marks went up, then, aren’t you?”

Lily’s gaze returns back to James, and he gives her a sheepish shrug. “I admit, I started to study much more because I wanted to spend more time with her.” That statement is absolutely true, but Lily doesn’t need to know that. To her, it just sounds like another part of their made-up love story. “She makes me better, I suppose.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, any! You’ve made me a much better person, too.” Lily replies, so sincere that he forgets that this is all pretend, for a moment.

He’s reminded of that fact very quickly, though, when their sweet moment is interrupted by his family’s vocal support. They’re eating this up, just like he and Lily thought they would. “You two are just the _sweetest._ ” His cousin Margaret insists, hands resting over her heart. “Have you known each other for much longer than a few weeks?”

“Oh, yes, we’ve known each other for _years._ ” Lily nods, turning her attention back to the audience she’s working so vicariously to woo.

James nods, his hand shifting from where it fell on her shoulder to play with her hair, twisting the ends of her scarlet locks round his fingers absentmindedly. “You’d never believe it, but she actually _despised_ me at first.”

“Only because you made such a fool out of yourself when you first started coming into the coffee shop! I thought you weren’t serious about anything.”

And, like, _yes._ Maybe that’s part of the story, but James also knows that part is _true._ For some reason, he thinks that he should tell her the truth, too. “I know, Remus told me, that’s why I started working there in the first place—to prove that I could be mature.”

Lily softens. “You never told me that.”

James gives a little, one-shouldered shrug, but before he can say anything else, Marty’s fiance, Kitty, interjects. Unlike his cousin, she doesn’t seem offended in the slightest that her engagement has been overlooked in favor of Lily, bless her heart. “When did you change your mind, Lily?”

“Well, we became friends really quickly after he started working at the coffee shop. I realized I’d been wrong about him.” James can admit, there’s a little part of him that swells with pride after _finally_ hearing Lily confess to being wrong about him. He’s been waiting on it for years.

“But when did you realize you were _in love_ with him?” Kitty presses, and her resemblance to Dorcas watching _The Bachelor_ is so uncanny that James can’t really think about anything else.

Lily hesitates, looking deep in thought, all for show he assumes. He’s a little excited to hear her tell the story of looking deep into his eyes as they danced at Petunia’s wedding—which will be a real _hook, line, and sinker._

“I don’t know if there was just one moment where I decided I fell in love with him. It was something that happened when I wasn’t paying attention, really, but I know the day that I realized that things were changing.”

English is definitely the right major for Lily, James decides. If being a lawyer ever fails, she can make a real go of it writing books, because her story-telling ability is _ridiculously_ good. She’s even got _him_ hanging on her every word, and he’s heard all this before. Also, he knows it isn’t real.

“We were at work—” James’s fingers still in her hair. _Oh,_ okay. this isn’t what they discussed. “—and, well, I have this really dorky love for poetry, it’s really lame. Anyway, we were just both minding our business, and I was trying to remember the second half of this poem that I love but for some reason it just wasn’t coming to mind, so I started speaking it outloud to try and jog my memory, and James _finished it for me._ ”

Another cousin, Cordelia, squeals. “Oh, that’s so _romantic!_ What poem was it?”

 _“The Night has a Thousand Eyes._ You let borrow your Bourdillon book earlier that week.” James can’t help but be a little shocked, because this memory is _real, too._ He remembers that day perfectly. He remembers the way that Lily had turned to look at him with an expression in her eyes that he’d never seen before—something like _awe._ He hadn’t known that she was trying to remember the end. “ _The night has a thousand eyes, and the day but one; yet the light of a whole world dies with the dying sun._ ”

“ _The mind has a thousand eyes, and the heart but one; yet the light of a whole life dies when love is done._ ” Lily finishes for him, this time, and James _can’t breathe._ Looking at her right now is too much, so he forces himself to turn away for a moment. “I don’t know why that was the moment, but it just _was._ I looked at him and… saw him in a way I’d never seen him before. I didn’t do anything about it, though. I mean, I asked him to my sister’s wedding a few months later, but as a friend, I thought.”

“You thought?” Euphemia repeats, her expression the smug one of a woman who was about to learn that she was right.

Lily laughs, releasing James’s hand that she’s been holding for the entire conversation to affectionately pat his knee. “My mum saw right through it. She figured out how I felt about him and told me to do something about it.” Her voice wavers a little and her eyes look a little glossed over, and James _knows_ it’s because it’s only been three months since she lost her mum. The wound is still fresh, no matter how hard Lily tries to conceal it. He pulls her a little closer.

Euphemia knows, too. James called her the night after the funeral, breaking down in _tears_ and telling her everything. No matter how crazy his mum is, he could never imagine losing her and he had to tell her that. She changes the subject quickly, and James is grateful. “There’s a celebratory bottle of champagne in the kitchen that needs opening so that we can _really_ get this _Potter Family Extravaganza_ started.”

* * *

In general, Lily thought that her first day as James Potter’s Fake Girlfriend was a huge success. Sure, there was the teeny, tiny slip-up of accidentally diverging from their agreed-upon fake relationship backstory and possibly telling James _and_ his entire family about the first time she _actually_ saw James in a different light, but she was choosing to overlook that.

James hadn’t said anything to her about it, not even when there was nobody within a close enough proximity to them to hear it, so he probably just assumed that it was some story she crafted up. Which, like. That was what she was _supposed_ to be doing, so.

His family had adored the story, too. In fact, his family had adored the two of them together in general, so it wasn’t like she’d gone and fucked everything up.

Except, like, it’s _a lot._

It’s _a lot_ to be right in between James’s arms as he teaches her how to _properly_ roll out the dough for the bread she’s in charge of making for dinner.

In fact, making dinner with James—which, cooking dinner was something that _James_ had insisted on, and he’d been equally insistent about teaching Lily a thing or two about it, as well—in general is a catastrophic blow to the _S.S. Lily-Is-Not-In-Love-With-James._ Of course, there’s the reason that seeing James with his sleeves pushed to his elbows and chopping vegetables in a rapid and precise fashion is _incredibly attractive._ It’s also very detrimental because James is a _much more_ talented cook than he’d ever let on.

Like, she _knows_ that he isn’t total shit at it because she’s eaten his food once or twice, maybe, but in his apartment the general rule is that they all cook together—and kept meals on a budget that _everyone_ can afford to contribute to. With his own space and a seemingly _endless_ array of ingredients to choose from, James is a fucking _artist._

It’s a _huge_ compliment, because Lily considers _herself_ to have quite a knack for cooking. Even with her limited, self-taught culinary knowledge, she’s fully aware that Indian cuisine is _insanely_ complex, and equally delicious.

In her eyes, James easily surpasses the skill of Euphemia in the kitchen, which throws her for a bit of a loop because James had explicitly, and many times, credited his mum with teaching him _everything he knew_ about cooking. It’s clear that isn’t the case, and that James is his own well of knowledge, when she instructs them to make naan to go with the murgh makhani and James does away with that almost _instantly._ An amritsari kulcha, which she learns is a flatbread that he intends to stuff with potatoes and paneer, is what he insists will be better with the meal. Lily firmly believes he knows exactly what he’s talking about.

“So this is just about the perfect amount that you want.” James’s voice informs from directly over her shoulder, and Lily _really_ is trying to focus—not wanting to go and fuck up the _one thing_ that she’s in charge of—but it’s very difficult to think critically about the shape and thickness of her kulcha dough when there’s practically negative space between her back and his chest, and his hands are on top of hers as they fold the dough and separate it into enough pieces for his family. “You’re going to just keep on making them until the dough runs out, yeah? Then it’ll be time for the filling.”

Lily’s mind is a little _blown._ She’s so fixated on making the perfect meal that the idea of not having a recipe for this stresses her out. Granted, it’s different for James—who’s been making this food for years and years now—but, like, Lily’s been making chocolate chip cookies her whole life, too, and she can’t say there’s _ever_ been a time she’s made them with a recipe.

It isn’t _surprising_ to see James—who, in general, is _nothing but_ impulsive decisions and recklessly obtaining perfection—with an expression of practiced ease on his face as he sprinkles and pours different ingredients into his skillet with a rhyme and reason only _he_ knows. Not really. It’s more impressive than anything.

Her look of dismay is mistaken as one of doubt by James, though, who catches her staring when she’s done with sectioning her dough. “Come here.” He instructs, dipping a spoon into the sauce and holding it out for her to taste. She leans up slightly to sample it, not wanting to take the spoon into her flour-covered hands and risk dropping it, and her eyes go a little wider immediately. “What? Too spicy?”

Lily shakes her head immediately. It’s definitely spicy, yes, but it’s _fabulous._ It’s _perfect,_ even. “No, it’s good. Like, _really_ good.” James’s expression goes _proud,_ as though he’s a young boy who’s just learned how to ride a bike or won a spelling bee, and Lily melts a little. “Like, Gordon Ramsay himself wouldn’t even be able to say something bad about this.”

“Oi, Gordon Ramsay knows _fuck-all_ about a good murgh makhani. If you want a _real_ opinion, it’d have to come straight from Vineet Bahtia, or it’s not worth _shit._ ” James says definitively, and Lily  snorts at his utter disregard for Gordon Ramsay—who Lily lives in constant, irrational fear of accidentally disappointing, despite her logical brain knowing he would literally _never_ wander into Hogwarts Brewery for a quick scone, or something.

“Well, then. You’d knock the socks clean off of Vineet Bahtia, too!” She asserts, and James laughs, waving a dismissive hand at her statement. It irks her more than it should. “No,  seriously. Haven’t you ever thought about it? Like, really pursuing cooking?”

James rubs the back of his neck with a shrug. “Thought about it? Sure. Doesn’t everyone like to dream about doing the things they’re passionate about their entire life? It’s not realistic, though.”

“But it _is._ The food you make is _incredible,_ James.” Lily says insistently, and she’s not the of person who says things like _this_ if she doesn’t mean them. James _has_ to know that much.

If the way his expression changes is anything to go by, he _does._ “So, what? You think I should strike up a proposal to Minnie on buying out her coffee shop and turning it into a restaurant?”

“Maybe you could talk to her about adding more food to the menu, maybe, _I don’t know ."_ Lily crosses her arms, pursuing her lips at him. James thinks she’s wrong, so that’s only motivating her to stand her ground even more. “I mean, why not?”

“Why not? Because I’m studying marketing! Because it’s my job to take over the family business some day, not run around trying to get a Michelin Star!”

“But you _could,_ if you _wanted to!”_ Lily is dangerously close to get worked up now, and she _can’t_ when his entire family is just a room away and they’re supposed to be pretending to be the perfect couple.

Key word being _pretending._

They’re not actually together, _this isn’t_ _real,_ so she has no right to be rushing to James’s honor like this. She can try to pretend that it’s friendly good-will she feels, but she knows it isn’t true, so she doesn’t bother lying to herself about it. Instead, she steps back—both from the topic _and_ from James. “So, the filling…”

The conversation is forgotten in lieu of Lily finishing her kulcha, and James cooking up the rest of his chicken. She’s not done with it, of course, but she can put it aside for the moment to concentrate of knocking it out of the park with this dinner.

Which she _does, thank you very much._ Granted, James did all the hard work and most of what garnered the initial attention, but once he made the pointed comment about how _she made the kulcha_ all the praise turns her way.

She’d be lying if she said that it doesn’t make her feel warm and fuzzy inside, but it doesn’t change the fact that it’s still _a lot._

It’s _a lot_ to sit wind up practically sitting on top of him when seating runs out in the living room. It’s _a lot_ to listen to all the sly remarks his relatives made about their future marriage. It’s _a lot_ to pretend like she isn’t falling for James, and _fast._

Of course, that doesn’t mean that she _isn’t_ taking advantage of the one occasion in her life where it’s completely acceptable for her to curl up in his lap and tuck her head against his neck. She _absolutely_ is.

Euphemia’s passionate love for champagne really doesn’t do her any favors, in that respect. Around glass number six, Lily has resolved herself to the reality that there is _literally_ nothing she wants to do in the moment more than be as close to James as physically possible, and since she’s actually _allowed_ to and free from any judgmental stares, _she does._

“It’s getting late.” James says through a yawn, and the realization that their charade is nearly over for the night sends a small wave of disappointment crashing over her. “Almost one.”

And, _yeah,_ most of his family has already retired to bed, but she hadn’t realized it was _that_ late. “Should we head up?” She turns her head slightly so that she’s looking him in the face. James nods in response, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear and Lily tries to convince herself the warm feeling in her stomach is from the champagne.

“I think it’s time for us to retire for the night, too.” Euphemia informs them, stretching her arms over her head as she rises to her feet. Fleamont gives a tired groan as his wife tugs him up, as well. “Goodnight, lovebirds. Remember we’ll be just down the hall.” Her wink makes it clear _exactly_ what she means by the statement, and—okay, Lily _fucking wishes._

But they’re alone now, so they have no reason to pretend to be in love anymore. She’s just about to—regretfully—get off of James’s lap, but before she can do anything, James stands up while _still holding her._ Which. Okay. Lily isn’t going to complain, because she actually _is_ pretty tired, even though the feeling of James’s hand against her thigh is _definitely_ doing something to her sanity. She chooses to ignore it and wraps her arms around his neck, instead.

It isn’t until they get all the way upstairs that James gently lowers her to her feet, needing his hand to open his bedroom door. “After you, dear.” He motions into the room, and she’s _completely immersed_ in him as soon as she walks in.

She’s been in his bedroom at his apartment more times than she can count, but for some reason being in his childhood bedroom, the place where he grew up, feels so _different._ This room is filled with the little puzzle pieces that all come together to form _his whole life_ —pictures of his family, his friends, little trophies from when he played football back in primary, a well-loved old drum set in the corner, a Manchester United flag on his wall.

She’s drowning in him, and she wants to take in every last bit of it.

Lily gasps, picking up one of the picture frames on his dresser. The photograph inside it is of two young boys—if Lily had to guess, she’d say maybe nine or ten years old—with their arms thrown around each others shoulders and pulling ridiculous faces at the camera. One of them is unmistakably James—he looks almost the same, only boyishly cute instead of unfairly handsome. The other one is a bit shorter and much paler, dark hair falling in a mess over his face. “Is this Sirius?”

James appears at her side, chuckling at the photo. “Yeah, it is. Year six, I think. Here, this one is my favorite.”

He hands her another photo, and she can’t help but grin when she sees it. It’s another of James and Sirius, though a good few years older and more recognizably themselves. They’re standing outside the front door of James’s home in matching school uniforms, James is grinning wide and proud, Sirius looks exasperated and fond. “Is this when he was living with you?”

“Year ten, yeah.” James nods, memories swimming in his eyes as he looks at the old picture in her hands. “First day of school pictures are kind of my mum’s thing, he’s pretending to be annoyed. I’m sure there’s one from our first day of sixth form somewhere, too.”

Lily’s heard this story from James before—how Sirius planned on not going to sixth form at all after his parents kicked him out, how he didn’t have the money. She understands, she and her sister both relied on scholarships to be able to afford sixth form back then. Euphemia and Fleamont had volunteered—insisted, really, according to James—that they would pay for him to go. The reminder of their generosity leaves Lily _floored._

“You look the same.” Lily teases, tapping where fourteen year old James stands in the photograph.

“I know. Can you believe I’ve always been this handsome?”

Lily laughs. Part of her wants to spend the night looking at every single childhood photo of James that exists, but the other half of her really is _exhausted._ She eyes the bed behind James, and—the bed.

As in, singular bed. Right. Because they’re grownups. Grownups in a committed relationship. And grownups in a committed relationship _share one, singular bed._

She isn’t sure if she’s pleased or not.

Apparently, her facial expression is pointing to the latter, because James clears his throat and rubs the back of his neck. “Uh. I can sleep on the floor.”

“No.” Lily shuts down that idea almost immediately, giving him a pointed look. There is _no way_ that she’s exiling James to the _floor_ in _his bedroom._ “It’s fine. I’m sure we can manage sharing a bed for a few nights, right?”

“Right.” James repeats, though he sounds more uncertain than Lily would like. Probably because _he has no feelings for her_ and sharing a bed isn’t really something you do with someone who you don’t have feelings for.

She isn’t hurt. _She isn’t._ “Right.” She says again, bordering on the line between awkward and uncomfortable as she goes to fetch her pajamas and her toiletries from her bag. “I’ll go get changed in the bathroom, you can have out here.”

James has his _own bathroom_ connected to his bedroom, which is almost the epitome of luxury  to her. Young Lily would have _killed_ to not have to share a bathroom with Petunia.

The bathroom is _also_ a luxury for Present Lily, because it means that she can close the door and be in _her own space_ for a moment. Which she _really_ needs, because _she has to share a bed with James for the whole weekend_ and all she wants right now is a long, hot shower to mull over her unfortunate fate.

She wants to scream, but a closed door would do nothing to keep James from hearing that, so she abstains.

Instead, she stretches out her routine to be as long as humanly possible. A good thirty minutes have passed by the time she’s finally all cleaned off and dressed—which, considering the fact she usually shares one bathroom with her three roommates, is a very long time—she allows herself to stare down her reflection in the mirror. _Get ahold of yourself, Evans,_ she thinks. _You are not going to make a fool of yourself on the account of James Potter._

She straightens her back, nodding at Mirror Lily, because she’s _right._ She can’t make a fool out of herself for _James._ It’s so preposterous and so utterly unlike her. So she won’t.

When she exits the bathroom, James has already made himself comfortable on the far left of the bed so it’s officially too late to change her mind on sharing a bed, unless _she_ wants to sleep on the floor. Which she _doesn’t._ So.

She figures it’s kind of like jumping into a lake. If you try and ease your way in, you’re only in a perpetual state of cold and suffering. The only way to go about it and wind up comfortable is to jump in, _all the way._ So she does, sliding beneath the blankets in one quick, successive movement before she can dwell on it.

Except it’s also like jumping into a lake in the sense that it’s _fucking freezing._ The sheets feel like _literal ice_ against her skin, and the _shit insulation_ of the Potter’s old castle is abundantly more clear up in James’s room than it is downstairs—especially since her wet hair is making her even more aware of the chill.

“Goodnight, Evans.” James says cheerfully—which, like, _is he not aware of how cold it is?_ Lily is actually _annoyed_ with him.

“G’night, Potter.” She tries to get out as smoothly, but her voice is trembling as much as her body is as it tries to keep her body from _going into hypothermia._

“Are you shivering?” He sounds amused, and Lily rolls over to shoot him an icy glare—literally, she thinks her eyes are even freezing over. And, if not her eyes, then her hair has _definitely_ frozen into icicles by now.

And, _yes,_ he does have that stupid smirk on his face, and he is _definitely not shivering_ , so Lily scowls at him. “Yes, I _am_ shivering, because it’s _freezing fucking cold_ and that’s generally what the human body does when it’s trying generate heat.”

“Yeah, well, old house, not the best insulation.” James shrugs as he turns off the light. “Don’t worry, nobody’s ever frozen to death in this house. That I know of, at least.”

Lily thinks her pulse is slowing down. That, or her mind is playing tricks on her. But if she’s imagining things, then she’s probably already started the slow descent into hypothermia. She’s definitely about to _die._

“Evans, the sound of your teeth chattering is keeping me awake.” James whispers, and if Lily wasn’t so far away from him, she would have kicked him in the shin for that. Alas, she can’t reach him—also, she’s fairly confident she’s lost all range of motion in her extremities.

“There’s nothing I can do about it!” She retorts, having accepted her cold, painful fate of freezing to death in James Potter’s childhood bedroom.

“And you say _I’m_ dramatic.” James mutters, followed shortly by the sound of blankets moving around, and Lily squints in the pitch-black darkness to try and figure out what’s happening. Maybe James is leaving her _alone to die_ in exchange for a decent night’s sleep. Maybe he’s going to put her out of her misery. She doesn’t even have time to contemplate which outcome is more favorable, because the next time James speaks, he’s only _inches away from her face._ “C’mere, you _loon._ ”

And then he’s _wrapping his arms around her_ and _pulling her into his chest,_ and Lily is strongly considering the possibility that _none of this is real_ and she’s simply reached the delirium stage of hypothermia. But James is _warm_ —he’s _so warm_ —and there is nothing, come hell or high water, that will separate her from his side right now.

If she had even a _shred_ more dignity, she would have thought twice about jumping at the opportunity to _cuddle James,_ as if she were some lovesick teenager, but she’s actually managed to stop shivering, so.

“Better?” James asks against the top of her head, sounding sleepy, and Lily nods into his neck.

“Better.”

* * *

James wakes up with a mouth full of hair. Which, like, it’s not at all romantic, and actually a little bit disgusting, but he’s too absorbed in the fact that said hair is the fiery shade of red that he’s only ever seen atop one person’s head.

Lily Evans.

Lily Evans is curled into his chest, head buried into the crook of his neck, and it’s so _painfully_ domestic that James can’t breathe for a moment.

Sure, this isn’t the first time that Lily has slept in a close proximity to him, but this is so, _so_ different than any time Lily’s dozed off with her legs draped over his on the couch, or with her head situated cozily in his lap. He can feel the steady rise and fall of her breathing, and her arm is wrapped around his torso, and one of her sock-covered feet is hooked around his ankles—and, honestly, he’s ready and willing to overlook the fact that she sleeps in socks like a _psychopath_ because his entire body is filling up with this warm, fuzzy feeling.

This is dangerous. This is _so_ dangerous. And so, _so_ bad for his health.

He needs to slip out of bed before he does something stupid, like kiss her forehead, and he _will. He will._ But first, because this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity—or, twice, because they still have to share a bed tomorrow, but who’s counting—he’s going to _relish_ it. He lets himself take it all in, only for a moment, because there’s a rare, delicate sort of beauty to Lily Evans when she’s asleep, and he knows it’s ephemeral.

She’s _always_ beautiful, of course, but her beauty is decidedly more chaotic when she’s awake, because she’s always thinking, always moving, always planning. She’s tense—she carries it in her shoulders, James knows. But, right now—with eyelashes fanned out over ivory skin and lips parted only slightly and her face free of any worry or stress—she’s _soft_ , which is not a word he’d ever use to describe the sharp, fierce, formidable Lily that exists when she’s awake.

He wants to cover her cheeks with feather light kisses to draw her out of sleep in the most careful way possible. He wants to spend long, lazy mornings curled beneath blankets, talking about everything and nothing and whatever is in between with her. He wants to begin _every day of his life_ mapping out the constellations of her galaxy of freckles and committing each one to memory. He wants this. He wants her. He _wants,_ and he wants so badly his chest is going to _collapse_ with it.

His resolve to _not be in love with Lily Evans_ is crumbling.

The warning sirens in his brain begin to blare at full intensity. Abort mission. _Abort mission._ He needs to get out of there, _fast._

Lily is a heavy sleeper, he knows that much for certain, but his motions are still slow and careful as he maneuvers his way out of bed—regretfully withdrawing his arm from beneath her head and lowering her onto a pillow in his place. He’s only just managed to crawl out from beneath the covers when Lily shifts. He holds his breath, uncertain why he’s so _scared_ of her waking up when they both were fully aware of the position they fell asleep in last night—though it’s probably because he knows how lovestruck he looks.

It isn’t until he’s all the way downstairs that he lets go of the tension in his shoulders and relaxes—which is mostly because the smell of his mum’s paranthas practically makes his mouth _water_ so he can’t really think of anything but the delicious, home-cooked breakfast he’s about to devour.

“Morning, mum.” He greets her as he reaches over her shoulder for a coffee mug. And, on second thought, he grabs two, because no matter how hard of a sleeper Lily is, her internal clock never lets her sleep past eight-thirty. He knows that for a fact because, aside from Remus, he’s never met anyone who woke up as early as him—and Remus had been corrupted into sleeping as late as possible by Sirius now, so most mornings, Lily is the only person who’s ever awake to keep him company.

“Morning, dear.” Euphemia chirps back, pressing a kiss to his cheek before turning back to the meal she’s preparing. “Did you sleep well?”

James snorts, dumping a heaping spoonful of sugar into Lily’s mug. He’ll never understand how she can drink coffee so sweet. “I did, once Lily stopped whinging about how cold my room is.”

“What’s that, Potter?” Speak of the devil.

James turns, offering the mug to Lily with a sweet smile. “I was just saying how happy I am you didn’t succumb to hypothermia in the night, darling.”

“Bold of _you_ to try and talking about whinging.” Lily rolls her eyes at him, but she takes the coffee _and_ comes to invade his space and stand between him and the counter, so James considers it a win as he cozies up to her.

He pointedly _ignores_ the chuckle that Euphemia gives at Lily’s rebuttal, changing the subject instead. “What’s on the schedule for today?” He asks, his chin resting against the top of Lily’s head and both of his arms wrapped around her shoulders.

Really, James was asking his mum but it’s Marty who answers. “We’re going into town to look at wedding dresses.” He says proudly, throwing an arm around Kitty. His tone seems to be trying to tell James that _today is my day, not yours,_ and it only makes him want to steal the spotlight more.

Except, he doesn’t even _have to,_ because Marty’s lovely, _fantastic_ bride-to-be serves it right back to him on a _silver fucking platter_ when she says, “Maybe you can try some on, too, Lily! I can already tell it won’t be long til your wedding and it’s always good to get an early start!”

Marty is _fuming._ James is using every last ounce of his willpower to not give away how victorious he feels. Lily looks remarkably composed as she sips her coffee.

“Maybe I will, if I find one that speaks to me.” She muses, reaching her hand that isn’t wrapped around the handle of her coffee mug to pat James’s forearm where it lies over her chest. His mouth goes _very dry_ at the thought _wedding dress shopping_ for her.

Yeah. Lily Evans is _definitely_ about to be the death of him.

* * *

### Neil DeGrasse Tyson’s Disciples

**Today** 9:07 AM

I just wanted to let you all know that if I suddenly die today it’s because of Lily Evans in a wedding dress.

 _Wormy_  
YOU’RE GETTING MARRIED??

 _Moon Man_  
JAMES. I told you that you weren’t allowed to propose!!!!

 _Snuffles_  
If I’m not the best man, I’M GOING TO SUE.

 _Wormy_  
I?? Don’t think you can sue over that??

 _Snuffles_  
I will sue for emotional damages and Lily will be my lawyer.

 _Moon Man_  
HE ISN’T GETTING MARRIED

Sirius, of course you’ll be my best man

 _Wormy_  
So you ARE get married?!

 _Snuffles_  
Thank you Jamie<3

 _Moon Man_  
JAMES.

OKAY I’M NOT GETTING MARRIED.

 _Wormy_  
What’s happening then???

My entire family just wants me to DIE.  
I’m pretty sure my mum’s behind this.

 _Snuffles_  
I love that woman.

* * *

It turns out, Lily hadn’t been lying all the times that she complained about how _painful and dreadful_ it was to go wedding shopping with Petunia. James has only been sitting in the bridal store for an hour and he’s _mind-numblingly bored._

“How long do these things usually last?” James leans over to ask Lily under his breath after checking his watch for what feels like the _hundredth_ time in the last fifteen minutes.

“Petunia’s record was four and a half hours.” Lily whispers back, and James cannot physically the groan that leaves him at the prospect of staying here for _four and a half hours._

It’s not even like Kitty is terrible—which is kind of frustrating to James, really, because Marty is _the worst_ and he’d really like to despise his fiance just as much. Kitty was too kind to hate, or even try to make fun of too often, despite the fact that she wasn’t the brightest.

It’s just that they’ve literally been here an hour—sixty entire minutes—and Kitty has tried on _one_ dress. Just _one._ It was a really terrible dress, too, one that made her look like her bottom half had been swallowed by a cupcake.

He’s saved from his boredom, at least momentarily, when Kitty emerges from her dressing room in the shop’s robe, and says that _all_ the dresses she’d picked out first were decidedly terrible, and it was all hands on deck to find some _new_ options.

At least it’s _something_ to do.

He and Lily are tackling one rack together, and he’s sifting through white dress after white dress in a rather mindless fashion until Lily gasps and throws her arm in front of him. “What is it?”

“This dress.” Lily breathes, gently easing it away from the others to get a good look at it, slowly turning it around in front of her. “It just… There’s something about it that I can’t put my finger on.”

“You should try it on, then.” Kitty speaks up from behind them. Marty and James both give her looks of surprise, but Lily is too engrossed with the dress in her hands to pay any mind to that. “It is beautiful, but it’s not my style.”

“Are you sure?” Lily asks, finally looking up to offer a genuinely considerate eyebrow raise to Kitty. “I mean, this is your day. I don’t want to steal it.”

James is ridiculously fond of how _kind_ she is. _God._

“Of course I’m sure! We’re practically family now, aren’t we? You couldn’t steal it from me if you tried, we share these things now.”

Really, James has _no clue_ how his _ponce of a cousin_ managed to earn the affections of a girl like Kitty. He’s not sure he’ll ever understand that much, to be honest. It might just always be a mystery.  

Either way, Lily is soon ushered into a dressing room by an employee _and_ an insistent Euphemia to try on the dress she found, and James rejoins the family that isn’t helping Kitty search the store for her dream dress in the cozy viewing area. Only, now he’s considerably more invested than he was when it was Kitty trying on dresses.

“Lily is trying on a dress?” Cordelia asks, excitedly, wiggling an eyebrow at him. “Thought you said you weren’t engaged, Jamie!”

“We’re not.” James says firmly, mostly just because his heart _cannot_ take trying to pretend to be engaged to Lily, too. It’s _way too much._

“Not yet.” Aunt Dorothy corrects from the other side of him, and he has to fight back an eye-roll, strongly wishing that Lily was here to share in his disdain.

“No, not yet but I’ll remind you we’ve only been dating a few weeks.” James says. It feels, suddenly, like the game of _Try To Keep Yourself From Remembering You’re In Love With Lily Evans_ is becoming more and more of an Olympic sport, with how difficult everyone is making it.

“Of _course_ we know how long you’ve been together. We aren’t old enough to start forgetting things!” Aunt Theodosia responds indignantly.

Aunt Dorothy is right on her tail. “And we’re _also_ not blind enough to ignore how _madly in love_ you are!”

“So how long until you propose?” Aunt Theodosia concludes, and James is speechless. He doesn’t know _what_ to say, because he _certainly_ isn’t proposing to Lily, but he can’t tell his family that much. It would break the ruse.

He really should have expected them to become this invested in their potential marriage, but he didn’t, _so._

Thankfully, Lily is there in a heartbeat to save him. Like always. “Soon, I hope.” James hears her voice before he sees her, but the moment of delay _still_ isn’t enough to prepare himself for what seeing Lily in a wedding dress would do to his brain.

The answer, of course, is _completely fry it._ He’s unable to speak, unable to form any logical thoughts besides ones that pertain to how _absolutely beautiful Lily is._

The dress she’s wearing isn’t like the pastry-esque one that Kitty had worn, or the even more dreadful one Lily’s sister had worn. There’s no gigantic skirt to swallow her up, there are no puffy sleeves, there’s no illogically long train for everyone to step on. It’s lace, and it’s elegant and rather simple, aside from the delicate bit of beads and crystals that hugs her waist and travels up the neckline.

It’s perfect. She’s perfect.

“With the way he’s looking now, I’d say it won’t be too long at all.” Kitty says, and James hadn’t even realized she’d come over. In fact, it seemed that Lily’s appearance has drawn quite the crowd—aside from Marty, who had excused himself with a mutter about _needing to make a call,_ or some bullshit that James couldn’t care less about.

To be frank, there’s literally nothing he cares about at all except for figuring out _how_ to be the lucky bastard who gets to marry Lily Evans. At least he can pretend to be, for now.

“Have you talked much about your future, then?” Aunt Althea asks, and James _knows_ it’s his cue to return to being a functional human being again—or, at least, as close to one as he can pretend to be.

“Oh, definitely.” James says smoothly, catching Lily’s gaze in the reflection of the mirror she’s looking into and shooting her a smile. “We both want a big family.”

Euphemia claps her hands together excitedly, no doubt at the possibility of being a grandmother to James and Lily’s abundance of children. James knows they’re purely fictional, but he hopes that they all get her eyes. “How many children do you think you want?” She prods. Yep, definitely already planning exactly how much spoiling she’ll get to do.

“Six.” Lily and James both answer in near-perfect synchronization, and James’s poor, pitiful heart is having palpitations at how many Lily Evans related fantasies it’s enduring in one, short time. The thought of their six wild-haired, green eyed children, especially, is more overwhelming than _anything_ he’s ever faced before.

“I’ve always liked the name Harry for a son, and _Harry James_ just has such a nice ring to it, don’t you think?” Lily adds, because she _always_ has to go above and beyond. His family is absolutely _losing_ it over the imaginary baby Harry James Potter—but _holy shit_ that one really _did_ send James _reeling._

He doesn’t know how he’s supposed to just go about the rest of his life now that he possess the rare knowledge of what he and Lily’s first son would be named. What he _does_ know is that he can already imagine little Harry James running around—James thinks he’d be a lot like _him_ —making a mess of everything, a tornado of a child that he’d adore so much.

“What about for a daughter?”

James has no idea who asked the question—his tunnel vision on _Lily in a wedding dress, talking about their non-existent future children_ was too strong for him to even think about paying attention to anyone else—but he knows that the answer bursts out from inside him before he can think twice about it.

“Sharona.” He says firmly, and Lily’s eyes find his in the mirror again. She’s smiling so brightly at the mention of her favorite song, all he knows is that he wants to see that _forever,_ so he continues. “In honor of Lily’s mum. It was her favorite song, _My Sharona._ She almost named Lily Sharona, actually.”

Lily’s expression turns into shock, her hand flying over her mouth. She spins around to be facing James again, and he immediately takes a few steps closer to her when he sees that her eyes are glossy, now. “That’s it.” She whispers, reaching for his hand. For a moment, he actually believes she’s just putting on a _very good show_ of being invested in baby names, but then, “The dress, it looks like the one _my mum_ wore. That’s what I couldn’t put my finger on.”

And, _oh._ He’s not sure if he’s ever seen a picture of Lily’s mum at her wedding, but he did always think that Lily looked _just like her,_ so he _can_ picture what she might have looked like in a dress like this. “You look beautiful.” He says, because he doesn’t know what else he could say, and he squeezes her hand.

He forgets that they aren’t alone until Marty’s grating voice overtakes the fragile  silence—apparently done with whatever phone call was so important. “Did you find any other dresses you want to try on, pet?” He interjects, and, _yes,_ this moment might have been touching but it was also _real_ and the last thing Lily needs is an audience right now so he’s not _too_ angry with his cousin for wanting all the attention back.

Kitty _did,_ as a fact, find more dresses to try on, so everyone is temporarily occupied enough for Lily to slip from the spotlight for a moment.

“You okay?” He asks, his concern all genuine. She nods, and he feels like he can breathe again. “Good. You really do look beautiful, you know.”

She doesn’t say anything to that, not explicitly, but she doesn’t need to. The way she smiles and averts her gaze is enough for him to know that the compliment, and the earnesty behind it, was completely received.

* * *

“Do you need to shower, or am I good to steal the bathroom?” James asks, pulling Lily’s attention away from the book in her lap and onto him.

And, _okay._ His shirt is already off, and he’s giving her that half-smile, and he’s _so incredibly  attractive_ that it’s actually _not fair._ He has _no right_ to be smiling at her, _with no bloody shirt on,_ especially not after everything he’d said earlier when they were wedding dress shopping for Kitty.

She had _no idea_ that he’d remembered that her mum had almost named her Sharona. She’d only mentioned it once, and she knew for a fact that it was well over a year ago. James had laughed and made some comment inquiring if her name was _Lily Jean like Billie Jean, then?_ And, yet, here he was taking her by surprise and saying they’d name their daughter Sharona—which, like, _deep down_ she’d always wanted to name her daughter Sharona, but how could _he_ have possibly known that?

And then, as if that wasn’t enough to throw her off her game for the rest of the shopping trip, he’d gone and given her the softest look she’d ever seen and told her she looked beautiful—and she _knows_ it’s stupid of her to be this fixated on it because he was only trying to be nice, seeing as she was seconds away from crying about her mum, and she’s blowing all this out of proportion.

It’s her fault, too, because _she’s_ the one that decided to try on the wedding dress, and _she’s_ the one that goaded his family into talking about their future engagement that would never come. But does he _really_ have to come rub it in her face by walking around _shirtless_ and looking like _this?_ It’s completely unnecessary, she thinks.

She doesn’t say any of that, though. Instead she smiles and says, “No, you’re good!”

Really, it’s taking almost every last drop of her willpower to not let her gaze drift any lower than his face—or, even worse, try to make a move on him.

She can’t even process and decipher everything she’s feeling for him at the moment, because only a few short minutes after James disappears into the bathroom, there’s a knock at the door. Lily presses her hands to her warm cheeks for a few seconds before she gets up to answer it, hoping to tone down the flush that’s inevitably taken over her face.

Which was smart, it seems, because it’s _Euphemia_ on the other side of the door.

“I was wondering if I could steal you for a moment, dear?” She requests politely, and this woman is so ridiculously endearing that it’s no wonder James turned out to be the way he is. They were _actually_ almost the exact same person, and Lily adored the both of them.

“Yeah, of course!” She nods, and Euphemia immediately holds her hand out for Lily to take with the kindest smile she’s ever seen on anyone that wasn’t her _own_ mum.

“Lily, darling, I just wanted to let you know how _lovely_ it’s been to have you come and join us this weekend. It’s such a special time for all of us, and—well, I _know_ you and James haven’t been together for _too_ long yet, but this weekend is all about _family,_ and I think it’s only fair that I do something for you to welcome you in.” Euphemia explains as they walk down the hall together, and Lily has to _physically_ swallow back the sudden rush of guilt she gets when she remembers that she’s lying to this sweet woman.

It’s an even heavier burden to throw onto what’s already weighing her down—the fact that she’s lying to _James,_ too.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that for me.” Lily replies softly as soon as she finds her voice, stomach feeling a little queasy.

“Nonsense. I _want_ to. Family is about sharing, dear. Sharing memories, sharing laughter, sharing your lives. And this… This is _tradition_ in my family.” She insists, turning to gently touch Lily’s shoulder as she opens a door and begins to lead Lily through what appears to be her bedroom. “My parents, bless their souls, weren’t exactly thrilled at first when I didn’t marry into a traditional Indian family, but as soon as they met Fleamont… They came around. My sisters and I, we don’t mind _who_ our children fall in love with. As long as they’re good, genuine people then we want them in our family and as a token of that, we like to give them something to make them feel a bit more at home. Now, close your eyes.”

Lily does as she’s told, though confused, and waits for a moment as Euphemia releases her hand and hurries off to fetch something—whatever the gift is. Lily only feels _more_ guilty.

“Okay, you can open them now!”

When she does, she can only stare in awe, her hand flying to cover her mouth. In Euphemia’s arms is one of the most _beautiful_ things she’s ever seen.

“It’s a _lehenga choli._ ” Euphemia explains, and Lily reaches out slowly to run her fingers along the silky fabric. It’s a gorgeous shade of midnight blue and the bottom of the skirt is embroidered with strands of gold tiny crystals that make it appear as though Euphemia has stolen every star out of the night sky and woven them into the fabric for her. “You can wear it tonight, if you like it.”

“Of _course_ I like it! I love it! This is _beautiful,_ Euphemia. I don’t know what to say.”

“Don’t say anything, just try it on!” Euphemia replies, looking proud of herself—which is _very_ well deserved.

The proud look only multiplies once Lily has her lehenga on and Euphemia helps her drape and pin the _gorgeous_ gold dupatta over her shoulder, except _now_ Euphemia’s pride is placed on _Lily,_ not on herself. She swears that Euphemia is a little teary-eyed as she stands over Lily’s shoulder, admiring the outfit in the mirror in front of them, and Lily cannot decide if she feels more warm with love or more cold with guilt.  

“You look _beautiful._ And James has the _perfect_ sherwani to match. It’s his favorite, because it isn’t as long as the others, so I’m sure he’s already wearing it—but if he _isn’t_ then you tell him to change, and that’s an order straight from the boss lady, herself.” Euphemia’s words are going almost too fast for Lily to process as they walk back towards the hall, and before Lily can even think about responding, Euphemia is handing her clothes back to her. “Now, I still have a lot of decorating to do, so I have to run, but the two of you best be ready for dinner at seven, _sharp!”_

With that, Euphemia is flying off in another direction, the regal purple silk of her own lehenga giving her the _perfect_ dramatic emphasis for her words. Lily chuckles to herself as she walks back towards James’s room, but the laughter is _gone_ the moment she walks inside.

James is standing in front of his mirror, finishing the last of his buttons, and he looks like _a prince._ Like, actually _royal._ It’s definitely the one Euphemia had assumed he’d be wearing, because it’s the same midnight blue as her own outfit with gold detailing on the wrists and the collar, and if Lily had never met him before now it wouldn’t take much to convince her that he’s the heir to some kind of throne, somewhere.

She’s speechless and standing there _staring at him_ like some kind of idiot when he turns to look at her. To Lily’s surprise, his jaw drops, too. Only, she reminds herself quickly, it’s probably just because he’s never seen her in this kind of outfit and _not_ because he can’t wrap his head around how good she looks.

Her mind is set on that, but her body moves of its own accord, taking a few steps closer to shorten the distance between them. James moves in, too, and Lily’s last hold on her rational brain is slipping from her fingers. This feels like the night in the shop, just the two of them a few nights ago, when they were _so close_ to kissing. This time, though, there isn’t any whisper of a competition. This time there aren’t any whispers at all, it’s just _them_ and it’d be so easy for Lily to kiss him right now if she wants—and she _wants._

Her eyes are flitting over his face, searching for some kind of sign—though of what she isn’t sure. James opens his mouth to speak, and that’s when she panics and takes a sudden step backward, the moment shattering around them. She can already imagine the rejection coming from his lips and she _can’t_ hear it.

“We match.” She says before she can think of anything more intelligent to say, because she _has_ to say _something._

James’s expression turns and he offers her an amused looking smile, which is _so much more preferred_ than the hesitant uncertainty that had been lacing his expression a few moments ago. Lily tries not to dwell on the way her stomach sinks. “My mum’s really outdone herself this time. It looks great.” He’s admiring the outfit, _not her._ It’s not the same as the way he’d looked at her earlier and called her _beautiful,_ but she can pretend like it’s enough.

“I just have to finish getting ready.” Lily announces, tipping her head in the direction of the bathroom door. “It won’t be long. Just a few minutes.”

“I’ll wait here.” James nods, settling into a comfortable, seated position on the bed and Lily cannot get into the bathroom with the door shut behind her fast enough.

 _This is fine._ She thinks, looking at her reflection and taking a few, steadying breaths. _It’s almost over now._

* * *

 

### Nobody Ever Asks Haw Yee :/

**Today** 6:39 PM

SOS  
JAMES LOOKS LIKE ALADDIN  
AND IM GOING TO DIE.

 _Emmy_  
LILY’S IN LOVE EVERYBODY

 _Doe_  
I KNEW IT!! I KNEW THIS WOULD HAPPEN!!

 _Marls_  
Took you long enough, didn’t it??

SHOW  
ME  
SUPPORTTTTTT

 _Emmy_  
Here’s a hot take  
TELL HIM.

 _Marls_  
Ugh, Emmeline, your mind…  
So powerful.

This ISN’T HELPING.

 _Doe_  
Personally, I found that suggestion very helpful

 _Emmy_  
Ily!

Okay, goodbye, thanks for NOTHING.

* * *

Euphemia has outdone herself, Lily is certain. Sure, she doesn’t have any other _Potter Family Extravaganzas_ to pit against this, but she’s _positive_ that this is unlike anything that’s ever existed.

The inside of the Potter mansion has been _transformed._ If Lily hadn’t already been well-accustomed to Euphemia’s unbridled power of will, she might have even believed that it was a feat that could only be accomplished by magic. Every corner of the home—from the staircase to the living room—has been given a new life by being adorned with the most beautifully bright fabrics, dazzling string lights, and gorgeous flowers Lily’s ever seen. She feels like she’s been thrown head-first into a Bollywood movie, and she’s _in-fucking-love_ with it.

“Your mum is a _goddess._ ” Lily had whispered to James as they made their way down the front stairs.

He’d taken her hand in his own with a warning smirk. “Don’t let her hear you say that.”

She hadn’t even gotten the _chance,_ because the moment that she and James walked into the dining room it became very clear that what Euphemia most wanted to show off in the moment was Lily. Well, Lily and James together, as a package, of course.

Which, she _understood._ She was on the _inside_ of the ruse for the weekend, and she _still_ managed to continually find herself thinking—read, wishing—about how _perfect_ everything would be if this was real. It should have made her proud, because it meant that they’d accomplished everything they’d set out to do, but as the night went on she only found herself wrapped up in a deeper state of longing. Longing for the weekend to not end so quickly, longing for things to be a little different, longing for James to feel the same way she did.

It was a _mess,_ and the steady flow of champagne that had accompanied their five-course dinner didn’t make things any neater. Neither did the constant fussing over how _precious_ she and James were in their matching color schemes—although Lily _did_ concur—so she was grateful when dinner came to an end and James managed to pull her away from the crowd for a moment.

Except, now she was _alone_ with James, which was just as challenging but in a different way.

“C’mon, I think you’re going to like this.” James says with a grin _so wide_ that Lily cannot protest the way he’s so excitedly pulling her down a hallway. She wants to tell him that she’ll like anything he does if he keeps smiling like this, but she doesn’t. Of course not.

Instead, she waits until he’s opened a door for them and led her through and— _wow._ This is, no doubt, the show-stopping grand finale of Euphemia’s decorating. The entire, _massive_ room is flooded with color and light and it’s easily the most beautiful thing Lily has seen in her life. Petunia’s wedding reception has _nothing_ on this.

“Wow.” Lily murmurs as James continues to pull her forward, much slower now, towards the center of the room. She can imagine how lively it’ll be when the rest of his family is there, too, dancing the night away, but for now she’s glad it’s just the two of them. “I can’t believe you live in a castle.”

James tips his head back a little as he laughs, dropping her hand and moving towards one edge of the room, where the speakers are stationed. “It’s not really a castle.”

“Yes, it is. You’re an _actual prince,_ who lives in an _actual castle,_ with an _actual ballroom._ ”

James gives her _that smile_ and she’s _gone._ She’s _done for._ And, to make it worse, the sound of a piano begins to pour from the speakers as he makes his way back to her. One of her favorite, sappy love songs, at that. “Well, if I’m a prince, then that must make you the princess.” He gives a dramatic bow, offering her his hand once he’s righted himself. “Would you care to accompany me in this dance, your highness?”

Lily grasps his hand and curtsies, a smile overtaking her features that she cannot push away. “I’d be honored to.”

He pulls her into him in one graceful motion as Jon McLaughlin’s _beautiful_ voice begins to serenade them. “Thank you for coming this weekend.” James says softly, his hand coming to rest on the small of her back. “I’ve never had so much fun at one of these.”

Lily’s fingers splay out over his shoulder and she can’t bring herself to look away from his eyes for even a moment, the rest of the world melting away slowly but surely. “Everything was perfect.”

“ _Perfect.”_ James repeats, and Lily can’t tell if the way he’s looking at her right now is _real_ or if she’s fabricated it in her mind. “Everyone loves you so much and I—”

He falters, and Lily’s breath catches for a moment. He _what?_ There are so many ways that he could have ended that sentence, but there’s only _one_ that Lily cares about. And maybe she shouldn’t push, maybe she shouldn’t do this, maybe it’s a terrible idea. But all she can think about is how much time she’ll spend _wondering_ what might have happened if she never did what her mum told her to do—if she never took a moment to _be brave_ —so she swallows every last bit of fear in her and pushes herself up onto her toes to press her lips against James’s, _so, so carefully._

She thinks maybe he’ll pull away—she’s already thinking of how many different ways she could apologize or try to excuse her actions—but he _doesn’t._ There isn’t even a moment of hesitation before both his hands are pulling her closer and he’s _kissing her back_ and her heart actually takes flight. Maybe it’s the way the songs leads into the gorgeous, instrumental bit as he does, or maybe it’s _just him,_ but Lily almost feels like she’s in the middle of a Disney movie gone _right._

She can’t open her eyes at first when they break apart, but once she wills herself to look at him he’s watching her with soft, careful eyes, and one of his hands comes to rest against her cheek, and _she knows._ Now is the time to tell him _everything._ “I—”

She’s interrupted before she can go any further by a voice she doesn’t recognize calling from the doorway. “James?”

Lily’s gaze shifts and falls on a pretty, dark-haired girl who looks about their age watching James almost expectantly. Lily is… _confused._ She looks back to James for clarity, and what she gets is _heart shattering._

He’s not looking at her anymore, now he’s focused on the other girl and Lily cannot pretend to ignore the way his eyes are shining a little bit, just as she cannot pretend that it doesn’t hurt.

“Mary?” He finally says, and _everything_ comes shattering down around Lily in that one second. She knows the name—it’s a girl who James had fallen head-over-heels in love with the summer before their third year, until she’d moved to France with her family. The grating annoyance she felt whenever he said her name back then couldn’t even hold a candle to the way she’s feeling her heart crack into tiny, tiny pieces right now.

 _We’re so close to reaching that famous happy end and almost believing that this was not pretend._ Jon McLaughlin’s voice reminds her of the _oh so painful_ truth that this—that _they_ —are not really in love. James has never been in love with her, but, _oh,_ he loved Mary.

Lily pulls herself away from him, and James doesn’t even seem to realize at first. Not until she forces herself to swallow down every last bit of hurt in her to say. “Go on. Talk to her.”

“Are you sure? Weren’t you just about to say something?” James asks, and Lily appreciates the gesture but she can’t overlook the way his gaze drifts back towards Mary somewhere near the middle of his words.

“It wasn’t important. Go.” She tries to put on her best attempt at a convincing smile, and it’s enough to do the trick because James reaches to give her shoulder an appreciative squeeze before he turns to walk towards Mary and soon Lily is left alone in the room.

_So close, so close, and still… so far._

The song comes to an end and a painful silence overtakes the now-empty space. Lily isn’t quite sure how she feels at first, but when she turns to look towards the door again and is met, for only a moment, with _Marty_ standing on the other side and giving her a sickening sneer, she realizes that she’s _nothing but a pawn._ That’s all she has been, really, this whole weekend. A pawn put in the middle of James and Marty’s quest to scorn each other, in Euphemia and her sister’s lifelong rivalry, and she’s _angry._

She tears her eyes away from Marty’s, not wanting him to realize he’s won, and heads to grab James’s phone from where it’s still attached to the speaker. She’d use her own, but it’s up in James’s room and she has a feeling that’s where he’s taken Mary to, _so._ She knows his password, so it’ll do.

She calls the first person she can think of that might be willing to come and save her from this _fucking nightmare._

 _Remus_.

He answers on the second ring, and Lily begins to rush her words out before he can even get in a _hello._ “It’s Lily, and I’m sorry to inconvenience you but I just—Mary’s here and James is with her now and I just want to _go home._ ”

“I can be there in less than three hours, okay? Get your stuff together and I’ll call you when I get close.” Remus responds without missing a beat, and the storm inside of Lily feels a little more settled. “I’ll see you soon.”

The line goes dead, and _no doubt_ Remus is probably already sprinting to his car, and Lily has never been so thankful in her _life._ She’s going to be able to leave, to get _far away from here,_ and hopefully never think about how in love she is with James for _at least_ the next twenty-four hours.

Of course, she’s only two steps out of the ballroom and into the hallway when a hand reaches for her shoulder and stops her hot in her tracks. “Lily? What’s going on?”

Lily knows _exactly_ who it is before she even turns around to face them, and she has _no idea_ how she’s going to talk her way out of this one. All she can do is try.

“Euphemia. I can explain.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOOOOO BOY. That was A RIDE. Right off the bat, I'd like to make a formal apology to my girl Mary MacDonald for doing her so DIRTY! But you know... we do what we have to do out here. 
> 
> Additionally, I'd like to make a little insert and say that the scene where James and Lily are making dinner? 100000% a little peek into a cooking show AU that I may or may not be creating? Would anyone be interested in that? 
> 
> Cheers!


	4. Of Candor and Confessions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I AM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG. The real world took over my entire life in a storm of complete chaos, so this chapter is LONG OVERDUE. Hopefully it's everything you wanted and more!

### LILY AND JAMES ARE THE WORST 2K19

**Today**  9:47 PM

Okay. Slight problem.

 _Mar-MEAN McKinnon_  
Problem???

 _Emme-LAME Vance_  
What's wrong??

 _Moony_  
Lily just called me and said she wants to come home.

 _DORK-as Meadowes_  
Why would she want to come home?

BECAUSE  
MARY MACDONALD IS THERE.  
AND SHE IS IN LOVE WITH JAMES.

 _Wormy_  
Mary is?

 _Moony_  
I think he might be talking about Lily.

 _Emme-LAME Vance_  
WHO THE FUCK IS MARY MACDONALD?  
WHERE DOES SHE LIVE?  
I JUST WANNA TALK.

 _Moony_  
Great, now you put the poor girl in danger.  
Nice going.

EMMELINE NO

 _Emme-LAME Vance_  
EMMELINE YES

IT ISN'T MARY'S FAULT

 _Mar-MEAN McKinnon_  
THEN WHOSE FAULT IS IT?  
I JUST WANNA TALK, TOO.  
NOBODY HURTS LILY AND GETS AWAY WITH IT

 _Moony_  
Nobody say a word.

 _Mar-MEAN McKinnon_  
Remus John Lupin, I'M GOING TO KILL YOU.

 _Wormy_  
Marlene... Emmeline... Lily is our best friend, too.

 _Emme-LAME Vance_  
Then LET US HAVE OUR VENGEANCE

There will be a time and a place, dear girl.  
But it is not right now.

 _Moony_  
We will keep you posted. Don't worry.

* * *

Lily swears —and she’d continue to swear for all the days of her life—that she’d never seen a person soften as quickly as Euphemia Potter did that night, when she reached out a hand to  Lily’s shoulder to stop the girl in her movements. 

Quite frankly, it’s heartbreaking, because she looks  _ just like James. _

James’s similarity to his mother has always been striking—even a bit uncanny, at times—but when she’s looking at Lily with careful, hazel eyes, and lips pulled into the tiniest of frowns, and that crease between her eyebrows that he  _ always  _ gets when he’s thinking hard about something, it’s  _ spot on.  _ Her mind is screaming  _ JamesJamesJames,  _ and there’s something dark leaking out of the cracks in her heart that  _ he  _ created, and it’s  _ too much. _

She can’t help it when hot, angry, embarrassing tears begin to well up in her eyes and she wants to  _ run.  _ She’s a  _ coward  _ when it comes to matters of the heart like this and that’s why she’s standing here, in this position, right now. 

Euphemia wraps her arms around her tightly before she can disappear, and even though Lily’s  _ ashamed  _ of the way she’s behaving, she lets her. Right now, there’s nothing she wants more than to talk to her own mum—to ask her what she’s supposed to do when being brave doesn’t work—but this is as close as she’ll get at the moment. 

Euphemia strokes her hair and lets her sniffle unattractively against her shoulder, allowing her a moment to let everything out before she pulls back. “Why don’t we go somewhere quiet to talk?” She suggests, and Lily can only nod as she furiously wipes at her cheeks, determined to eliminate all signs of her momentary lapse in perfection. 

Euphemia carefully leads her through the closest door into what looks like a small, cozy library, and if she wasn’t so invested in her own turmoil at the moment she’d really like to see exactly what books Euphemia keeps in her collection. At the moment, however, she’s really, very preoccupied and can only be appreciative of the peace and quiet. 

“How about you tell me what’s going on—what’s  _ really  _ going on. The truth.” Euphemia says plainly and—right. She doesn’t know the whole story. As far as she knows, this is nothing but an insecure outburst from a jealous girlfriend. Except, it seems that she’s already caught onto the fact that  _ it isn’t.  _ “That’s simple enough, isn’t it?”

“The truth is rarely pure and never simple. Modern life would be very tedious if it were either, and modern literature would be an impossibility.” Lily mumbles, trying her best to avoid the question with the words of an Irish poet. This isn’t her place to say anything. It isn’t her place to tell Euphemia about everything, that’s for  _ James  _ to do. But James isn’t here. James is with Mary. The reminder sends a rush of red-hot anger through Lily, but it isn’t enough to convince her to betray him, so she remains silent as she lowers herself into one of the chairs by the fireplace.

Euphemia mirrors her action almost immediately so that they’re still face-to-face, and still only a few steps away from each other. She does not seem at all amused by Lily’s diversion, and instead continues straight on to the point. “No? What if I tell you what I  _ think  _ is going on, and you can tell me if I’m right or not. How does that sound?”

Lily eyes her cautiously for a moment, but eventually she nods. So far, it doesn’t feel like this conversation is going to end very well for her. “That sounds good.”

“But you’re upset right now… because Mary is here?”

Lily wrings her hands together in her lap, gaze pointed away from Euphemia. She swallows hard, dwelling on it for a moment before she nods.

“And that upsets you because they used to have feelings for each other?”

Another nod. 

“Which is upsetting because you’re in love with him?”

Another nod. 

“But you’re not really dating my son.” 

Lily’s gaze lifts slowly. “You’re an incredibly perceptive woman, you know.” She says warily, which is all the confirmation Euphemia needs for her expression to turn into pity. “I’m sorry. It wasn’t meant to deceive you—well, I suppose it  _ was,  _ a little, but not this much. It all got so carried away.”

Euphemia, to Lily’s surprise, doesn’t look angry. Lily deserves her anger, though, that’s the thing. It would almost make her feel  _ better  _ if Euphemia was angry with her. “Why’d you do it?”

“It was my idea. James was just… so worried about disappointing you—disappointing everyone—and he just seemed so torn up about it that I volunteered to pretend to be his girlfriend, just for the weekend.” Lily shrugs, almost helplessly. “It was a stupid idea.”

“He was worried about disappointing me?” Euphemia repeats, and Lily feels guilty all over again by revealing something to Euphemia’s that should have been  _ James’s.  _

“It isn’t  _ your  _ fault.” Lily amends quickly, and Euphemia seems to relax a little. “He just… He’s always worried about disappointing you, I think, because he thinks of you so highly, and family is so important to him. He doesn’t want to let you down by not having a serious relationship, or by pursuing cooking instead of the family business, or… anything.”

Euphemia nods, slowly, like she understands. Lily knows that James would never have said such things, at least not explicitly, but they’re also things that Euphemia  _ already knows  _ to be true. “My son… What he’s always done best is surprise me. Fleamont and I weren’t ever supposed to have children, you know. The doctors told us we’d never be able to, and we’d accepted it… but there came James, anyway. Just when I think I’ve got him down, when I think I’ve finally mastered reading him, he comes around with a new surprise.”

Lily understands that, she  _ really does.  _ James is her favorite story, she thinks. He’s like a book that she’s read so many times that his cover is worn with her touch, and his pages are creased with the parts she wants to keep coming back to, and his margins are filled with her careful annotations. Like any good book, though, every time she reads him she finds something new. Lily doesn’t think she’ll  _ ever  _ stop being surprised by James, so she understands exactly what Euphemia means. 

“I love him.” Lily admits, taking herself by surprise this time with how casually she says it. It’s an admission she’s never made aloud before, but Euphemia’s expression shows her that she already knew. Euphemia knew, her best friends knew, and now  _ James  _ knows. It’s mortifying. “The problem is, I didn’t realize it until it was too late.”

“You think it’s too late?” Euphemia’s eyebrow lifts slightly, and so does the corner of her mouth, and Lily appreciates the optimism, really, but it’s misplaced. 

“After Marty sending in James’s ex-girlfriend to distract him, I’d say it looks like I’m done for.”

“Ah, yes, I can see why you’d think that.” Euphemia nods, but there’s a certain shine to her eyes that makes it seem like she’s on the inside of a joke that Lily isn’t. “Marty and James were always at each other’s throats when they were younger, always wanted to best each other, and sometimes I think that’s my fault. Althea and I, we’re the same way, and from what I’ve heard, so are you and your sister.”

“Petunia and I… It’s complicated.”

“I’m sure. Family is a bit funny like that, always complicated.” Euphemia agrees. “It’s never easy, but it wouldn’t be family if it was. Don’t you think?”

“No, not quite.” Lily smiles, and she’s starting to get it now. The anger she’d felt previously towards James and Marty both is starting to dissipate, but one problem still stands. “But, Euphemia, the point is that Mary is  _ here.  _ And she’s beautiful, and she’s lovely, and she—”

“Isn’t the girl James is in love with.” Euphemia interjects, and Lily can’t help but falter at her confidence. “James may surprise me every once in a while, but he is my son. I know him, and I know what he's like when he's in love.”

“James isn't in love with me.” 

“Lily, dear… He’s no actor. He couldn’t  _ pretend  _ to be in love to save his life.”

“He couldn’t?” Lily is hit a sudden rush of something that feels a lot like hope. It’s dangerous. 

“He’s been in love with you for years. He’s told me so, on multiple occasions.” 

Lily is speechless. She’s stunned. She’s about to be carried off with it, wrapped up in the notion that she has to find James  _ now— _ but then she remembers. James may not be in love with Mary, but he still chose her. He’s with her right now, he ran off with her only  _ seconds  _ after Lily had kissed him. Right when she was going to tell him everything. 

The hope dies in her chest and she feels herself begin to build her walls back up again. It’s the only way she can protect herself. “I think he’s changed his mind. Must have waited too long on me.”

Euphemia looks like she wants to argue some more, but Lily is  _ tired  _ of putting her heart in the middle of everything and letting herself be vulnerable only to be stepped on. 

She stands, rather abruptly, and offers Euphemia the best, polite smile she can muster. “I appreciate the conversation. Thank you, but I’m afraid I must be off.”

She doesn’t look back, but as she’s walking away, a familiar voice sounds in the back of her mind. A voice that makes her stop. A voice that makes her think twice. A voice that sounds a lot like her mother.

_ Be brave, Lily Jean. _

* * *

“So… how was France?”

“It was good. Very… French.”

The conversation is so dry that’s actually  _ painful  _ to James to participate in it right now. A few years ago, he would have been  _ overjoyed  _ to be sitting beside Mary in an unoccupied room, tucked away from the rest of the chaos of the night. Now, for the life of him, he can’t remember what he ever saw in Mary. 

Mary shifts awkwardly in her seat, and James really  _ does  _ feel bad for her. “Um, so that girl you were with… Was that…” 

“Lily.” James finishes for her and,  _ oh. Right.  _ That was what he saw in Mary—she wasn’t Lily.

Which, like, two years ago—when he was stupid and pining and wrapped up in an unrequited love for Lily Evans, who didn’t want to give him the time of day—someone who  _ wasn’t  _ Lily was exactly what he wanted. 

Mary was dark-haired, and dark-eyed, and quiet, and soft, and most importantly, she  _ liked him _ . She was quite literally  _ everything  _ that Lily  _ wasn’t.  _ It wasn’t like he was using her, he really  _ did  _ like her, but he’d only been involved with her for a few months before she was gone, and whatever feelings he had for her left when she did. 

And now she was  _ back,  _ and when James had seen her he thought that  _ maybe  _ this was the perfect opportunity to distract himself from his harrowing, one-sided affections towards Lily—rekindling his flame with sweet, lovely, gentle Mary. 

Except… Except  _ now  _ he felt closer than he ever had in his  _ life  _ to Lily, and he couldn’t shake it. He couldn’t give up on it—give up on her—not after all of this.

“Are you two… together?” Mary’s words seem very hesitant, like she’s expecting an answer that she doesn’t want to hear. 

If James feels guilty, it’s only because he wouldn’t be at all remorseful to deliver that answer, regardless of what Mary wanted to hear. Except, it wasn’t really the  _ truth,  _ and their charade was crumbling. Instead, he chooses to say, “It’s complicated.”

Mary’s eyebrows furrow and her lips purse. It’s clear that wasn’t the answer she wanted to hear, either. “Well, do you love her?”

“That’s complicated, too.” James says, a slight edge to his tone, now, because why does it matter to Mary if he loves Lily or not. That’s his own business. 

“It’s not. It’s  _ simple. _ ”

James can’t tell if she’s trying to argue the fact for his sake or for her own. She can’t tell if she’s trying to talk him in or out of his affections. Either way, it irks him. “The truth is rarely pure and never simple. Modern life would be very tedious if it were either, and modern literature would be an impossibility.”

The expression Mary offers him is entirely blank, and James feels even  _ more  _ despondent, because if  _ Lily  _ were here then she’d have understood and appreciated his reference to an Irish poet. The first time he’d ever seen the play was with her, and he’d never laughed so hard in his  _ life. _ He can’t picture doing that with anyone  _ but  _ Lily, and... He’s a goner. 

“Right.” She says, slowly. 

James sighs, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Look, Mary, I’m really sorry that Marty dragged you here. He didn’t tell me anything about it.”

“I figured as much.”

“It really was a dick move on his part, trying to set you up to be embarrassed.”

“I don’t think he was trying to embarrass  _ me, _ James.” Mary’s words make him stop for a moment, and now  _ he’s _ the one giving  _ her  _ a puzzled look. “I mean, if things are really as complicated between you and Lily as you say, what would he be accomplishing by bringing me here?”

“Lily.” As everything begins to click in James’s mind, he sees red. No doubt,  _ he  _ was the intended victim of Marty’s scheme, but  _ Lily  _ was the one who’d been left behind when James had to go clean up the mess his cousin created. 

The urge to ball his hands into fists and clench his jaw is an automatic instinct, one he can’t fight off, because he’s  _ mad. _ It’s the same anger that rises whenever there’s the threat of  _ anyone  _ fucking with Lily. It’s the same rush of rage that makes his ears pound whenever dickhead boys come into the shop just to make lewd comments about Lily when she’s out of earshot or when they shamelessly check her out at a party.

Except, this time, he’s missed his opportunity to shield her from the people whose intentions were misplaced. This time, he abandoned her. The realization makes a heavy guilt settle in his stomach, feeling sick at the idea that  _ he’s  _ the one causing Lily distress. 

Mary gives him a knowing look and places a friendly hand on his shoulder to ease him from his thoughts. “You do love her.” She says, and to James’s great relief, she doesn’t sound hurt.  

And, like, he  _ is  _ relieved. Sure, the idea of hurting Mary doesn’t evoke the same gut-wrenching, all-consuming shame that hurting Lily does, but he’s not a  _ monster.  _ Mary’s feelings just don’t take precedence over Lily’s.  _ Nobody’s  _ feelings take precedence over Lily’s. 

_ Fuck.  _ Mary’s right. He loves her. He loves her so much his chest fucking  _ aches  _ with it, all the time. He was stupid to believe, years ago, there would ever be a time he  _ wasn’t  _ in love with her. He’s  _ even more  _ stupid for trying to believe it  _ now. _

“I do love her.” He finally says, rubbing his hands over his face as he tries to make sense of everything. He loves Lily. It’s not a silly little crush, not after he’s made dinner with her, slept in the same bed as her,  _ seen her in a goddamn wedding dress.  _ He’s  _ kissed her now _ —fucking  _ hell.  _ He’s kissed her. Rather, Lily kissed  _ him.  _

_ Lily Evans fucking kissed him and he ran off with Mary.  _

Oh, he’s really gone and fucked it all up, now. 

“Listen, Mary, it was really nice to see you and everything—” James begins to ramble, trying to figure out the best way to politely tell her that he absolutely  _ must  _ leave,  _ immediately,  _ because there’s someone much more important who requires his attention at the moment.

Luckily, he doesn’t have to, because Mary  _ knows.  _ “Go on. Get her.” 

James doesn’t have to be told twice.

* * *

Lily’s suitcase is lying open and empty on the bed, but instead of gathering fistfuls of her belongings and shoving them inside, her hands are on her phone. She taps her thumbs together as she eyes the texting thread she presently has open on her screen.

Yes, she had left her conversation with Euphemia feeling particularly disheartened, but ever since then the only thing she’d been able to think about was  _ her mum. _

More specifically, what her mum would say to her if she was here. It’s hard—the loss is still raw and biting and she feels it  _ every fucking day— _ and in moments like this, all she wants is her mum.

Lily’s hand lifts to her neck, fingers seeking out the chain of the necklace that she always wears. Her mum had given it to her for her eighteenth birthday, a garnet plated in gold that acts as one of the only things she still has left of her mum. 

The only time she’d ever gone without it had been back in December, when the clasp had snapped. It had been the cause of a small mental breakdown on her part—one that James had been unlucky enough to witness. She still remembered how panicked he had looked when she’d shown up at his door  _ sobbing.  _ Even after he’d somehow managed to decipher her ugly, choked off noises to figure out it was the broken necklace that was the cause of her meltdown, he didn’t take it any less seriously. In fact, he set out and didn’t return until later that night, with the fully repaired necklace in his hands and a warm smile on his face. 

Her heart had leapt in her chest when he fastened the chain around her neck again. Looking back at it, now, she knew that she’d loved him. She just hadn’t known it, then. 

She wants to kick herself. James had been in love with her at  _ some point,  _ but she’d been too stupid and blind to realize it. And now? Now that she’s finally caught up, it’s  _ too late— _ despite what Euphemia said. If she leaves now, though, she’s only making things worse, and her father always said  _ ‘If you find yourself in a hole, stop digging.’  _ She’s in a hole, no matter what she does now, so she might as well try and salvage a little bit of her pride instead of running away with her tail between her legs. 

As her thumb rubs little circles into the garnet stone around her neck, and she worries her bottom lip between her teeth, it’s as though she can  _ hear  _ her mum’s voice. Not like she’s  _ there,  _ in front of her—her voice sounds a little distant—but maybe like she’s on the phone. 

“I don’t know how to be brave.” She breathes, eyes fluttering shut so that she can at least imagine her mum’s face. 

_ Yes, you do.  _ Her mum’s voice sounds lighter, happier, than it had in Lily’s last memories of her. It’s how she always sounds when she’s acting as Lily’s voice of reason. It means she’s in a better place now, Lily is certain.  _ It’s inside of you. It always has been and always will be. _

“Just like you.” 

_ Just like me.  _

Running away isn’t an option. It’s  _ not.  _ She can be brave. She will be brave. She repeats the mantra in her mind until she’s forced herself to believe it, and then she swallows her fear and types out a text. ‘ _ Have you left yet?’ _

Three little dots appear on her screen almost immediately, and Remus’s response pops up before she can even begin to process any regret she might feel.  _ ‘About to. Why?’ _

_ ‘I’ve changed my mind. Don’t come. Sorry to worry you.’  _ Lily types the message, then deletes it all, then types it again. She can’t run from this. She can’t. 

She pushes her thumb down,  _ hard,  _ against the little, blue arrow that would send her message into the part of the universe that’s  _ permanent.  _ She’s done it, now. She can’t undo it. 

She tosses her phone onto the bed and eyes the suitcase one more wary time before she snaps it shut with a sense of finality that rattles even  _ her  _ to her core. 

_ No more running. _

* * *

### LILY AND JAMES ARE THE WORST 2K19

**Today**  10:22 PM

There's been a surprising turn of events.

 _Mar-MEAN McKinnon_  
WHICH IS???

 _Emme-LAME Vance_  
TELL US BEFORE WE STORM YOUR APARTMENT

 _DORK-as Meadowes_  
Please tell them, I'm scared.

 _Moony_  
Lily doesn't want to come home anymore.

THINGS ARE LOOKING UP!

 _Emme-LAME Vance_  
Are you SURE?

 _Moony_  
Yes. She explicitly said "I've changed my mind. Don't come."

 _DORK-as Meadowes_  
Okay. What in the WORLD is happening there?

 _Wormy_  
That's the question we're all asking.

 _Mar-MEAN McKinnon_  
Actually, the question I'm asking is  
WHY IS LILY TEXTING REMUS AND NOT US

 _Emme-LAME Vance_  
^^^

Looks like you've been dethroned  
There's a new best friend duo in her life  
And it's REMUS AND I!

 _Moony_  
Or because I know where James's house is  
And the girls don't.

Or that.

* * *

When James gets back to the ballroom, where he’d left Lily, she’s gone. His heart sinks low into his stomach, immediately assuming the worst. Which, in this case, is Lily off  _ alone  _ and  _ hurt _ —because of  _ him.  _ It’s nauseating, and, suddenly, it feels as though his life depends on finding her  _ as soon as possible.  _

He has to explain. He has to make sure she knows the truth. He has to tell her how he feels, like, maybe, the way she was about to when he’d left her behind. 

Merlin, he’s such a sodding  _ idiot.  _ He’s almost as angry with himself as he is with Marty for orchestrating this entire thing and leading him astray. 

There’s no time for loathing, though, so he shakes himself out of it and continues on his way. He  _ will  _ find her. 

It’s entirely possible that she’s just gone off to join up with the rest of the family, again. After all, why would she want to sit alone and just wait for him to come back when she had no idea how long he’d be gone for? It’s perfectly logical, he decides, and he sets off in the direction of the sounds of chaos that mean his family is near. 

He’s so dead-set on his path that he doesn’t even realize there’s someone approaching him until they grab at his ear, sharply, and force him to halt. He gives a groan of pain, but he knows better than to say anything about it because he’s well aware that it’s his  _ mother  _ yanking him by the ear before he even turns around and sees her. 

He’s also well aware that this means he’s in trouble. Big trouble. 

The notion is confirmed when he spins around—or, rather, his  _ mum  _ spins him around—and he sees the calculated but unmistakable  _ anger  _ in her eyes. His stomach begins to tie itself in a series of increasingly complicated knots when he puts two and two together. Euphemia Potter is not a woman that is quick to anger, but a tried-and-true method to get her there is to hurt someone she loves and cares about. The only person who fits the bill that James might have hurt today, albeit accidentally and inadvertently, is  _ Lily.  _

Lily is upset. She’s hurt. And she already talked to his mum about it. 

“James Fleamont Potter.”

Oh. Yeah. He’s in  _ huge  _ trouble. If the gods are good, maybe they’ll at least grant him a merciful death. 

“You’re lying to me. You’re lying to Lily. What on  _ earth  _ has gotten into you?” 

And—hold on. Lying to her? Lying to Lily? That wasn’t the reprimand that he was expecting, and now he’s just  _ confused. _

He sputters out something that doesn’t resemble any time of human speech pattern as he tries to wrap his brain around what he’s just heard, and Euphemia gives a short, exasperated sounding sigh as she releases his ear. “Lily told me everything.”

“Everything?” 

“Everything. Including the fact that you’re not actually together.” 

James gapes for a moment, his mind a horribly confusing swirl of all sorts of emotions—some that still resemble his previous confusion, but some that are more closely linked to anger. That doesn’t sound right. It doesn’t sound like Lily at all. He’s seen her hurt before, but he’s never witnessed her knowingly take out someone else in the process. Why would she go behind his back and expose his lies to his mother? 

“Mum, it’s not—” He tries to cover for himself, tries to smooth out the edges that now feel ripped and crumpled, but Euphemia waves a dismissive hand. 

“Doesn’t matter.” Euphemia replies, and he knows her well enough to believe that she wouldn’t say something unless it was true. The knowledge that she’s not  _ actually  _ angry with him for trying to deceive her  _ should  _ calm his racing mind, but it doesn’t. He’s still angry—angry with  _ Lily  _ for having the audacity to do that to him, to throw him under the bus because her feelings got hurt. It’s not like her, and now he’s beginning to question  _ everything.  _

“What matters,” Euphemia continues, “Is that you haven’t told her how you feel about her.” 

James’s eyebrows furrow, his jaw clenches, and now he’s  _ really  _ mad. She’s taking  _ Lily’s  _ side? There weren’t even supposed to  _ be  _ sides—they were supposed to be a  _ team _ —and now she’s gone and turned his own  _ mother  _ against him? 

“That’s because I don’t feel anything for her.” James replies through grit teeth, shaking his head slowly. It’s honesty, not him just trying to save himself, and the realization burns him. 

Euphemia lifts an eyebrow at him, and the condescending nature of the action makes the simmer in his stomach turn into a rolling boil. “You’re lying again.” James opens his mouth to object, but his mum doesn’t give him the chance. “Not to me. To yourself.” 

“I think I would know how I feel best.” James says shortly, leaving no room for argument. “And I feel  _ nothing  _ for Lily, not now.” 

He doesn’t look back as he moves away from his mum in long, angry strides. Not once. 

* * *

When James enters his room and slams the door behind him, Lily is overcome with a distinct, heart-sinking feeling of  _ dread  _ and she very quickly realizes that this isn’t going to go the way she had planned. 

Seeing James Potter angry—really,  _ truly  _ angry—is rare. She’s seen him annoyed or irritated more times than she could count, but she’s never seen him like  _ this.  _

His typical soft eyes and crooked smile are gone away with, replaced with a hard gaze and a clenched jaw, his arms crossed firmly over his chest and his lips pressed tightly together, his breathing is shallow. The wall that’s suddenly been built between them is practically tangible, and Lily wants to break it down  _ so badly  _ but she doesn’t know  _ how. _

To be honest, she doesn’t know what she’s done  _ at all  _ to make James like  _ this,  _ but the moment she realizes that it’s undoubtedly pointed at  _ her,  _ she instinctively goes on the defensive. With James glaring at her, she’s less apologetic and more outraged, because if  _ anyone  _ deserves to be angry right now,  _ it’s her.  _

“Where’s Mary?” The words fall from her lips before she can stop them—before she can even  _ process them _ —and she knows that it’s the wrong thing to say as soon as she’s said it, but it’s too late to take them back now.

“Mary?” James repeats, a harsh, biting sort of laugh accompanying the words. Usually his laughter makes her feel warm, but now it only sends ice through her veins. “Is that what this is about? You’re jealous?”

She wants to scream  _ yes, yes, yes,  _ but her pride has already dug its heel into the ground, suffocating her, so instead she snaps, “No.” She rises to her feet, looking him square in the eyes, assertively. The notion that James is angry at her for being jealous—angry at her for having feelings for him—only makes her pulse race more. “I just don’t fancy being made out to look like a  _ fool  _ in front of your entire family while you go run off with her.” 

“You want to talk about looking like a fool? You told my mother that we’ve been lying to her! That  _ I’ve  _ been lying to her! Do you have any idea how that makes me look?” James throws his hands out in a wide, sweeping gesture and his frown becomes even  _ deeper  _ set than it was before. Lily is  _ furious.  _

“ _ You  _ told your mother that you’ve been in love with me  _ for years!”  _ Her words explode out of her, and she’s far less apologetic for the outburst than she should be because  _ this isn’t fair.  _ It isn’t fair that James is mad at  _ her  _ because he’s never had the nerve to tell her the truth. It isn’t fair that he decided to run off with Mary the moment Lily opened up and showed a hint of vulnerability. It isn’t fair that she’s in love with him. 

“That isn’t fair!” 

Lily wants to  _ scream,  _ because she’s  _ so angry  _ with him, and he’s  _ so angry  _ with her, but they’re still so in sync—he’s  _ literally  _ voicing her exact thoughts—that her traitorous heart skips a beat.  The feeling fades as quickly as it came when she remembers why they’re fighting right now. “No, it isn’t fair! You didn’t think that I deserved to know? Or were you just going to keep lying to my face forever?” 

“I never lied!” James protests, following her words cold and fast. “It just  _ never fucking mattered,  _ because you never felt the same way about me!” 

“You don’t get to tell me how I feel!” Lily points an accusing finger in his direction, overcome with how many emotions she’s experiencing, all at once. “You know what isn’t fair? That you’re mad at  _ me  _ because all  _ you  _ do is bottle up how you’re feeling  _ all the time!” _

“So,  _ I’m  _ the one that bottles things up? That’s  _ rich  _ coming from  _ you! _ ” James laughs again, the same biting laugh from earlier, only this time  _ so much more cold  _ that it makes Lily’s stomach drop. 

“You don’t know  _ shit  _ about  _ me!”  _ Lily snaps, crossing her arms over her chest as if it’ll do anything to close herself off from him.

“Yes, I do.” James says slowly, the volume of his voice dropping so that he’s no longer speaking so loudly, but the cold and conscious edge is still there. “I know you. I know that you never drink your coffee black, and you listen to Rick Astley unironically, and care so much about everyone in your life but you  _ never show it.  _ And it’s so  _ typical  _ of you to try and say that I  _ don’t  _ know anything about you! You know why?”

Lily winces, recoiling like she’s terrified of what he’s going to say next, but that doesn’t stop James. He continues on without hesitation, and all she can do is take it. “Because all you do is build up walls and keep people out! You don’t _want_ me to know anything about you! You try so hard to pretend like you never feel anything for anyone because you’re afraid it’ll make you look weak, but that’s _not human!”_

His words hurt more than they should, but it’s because in the deepest corner of her heart, she knows that they’re  _ true.  _ The pain doesn’t make her want to be more vulnerable, though, it makes her build up her walls even more rapidly. “No, what  _ isn’t human  _ is acting like life doesn’t fucking  _ terrify  _ you! You talk about how I need to open up and show people how I feel, but  _ you’re  _ the one whose had feelings for me for years and hasn’t said anything about it! You’re the one who refuses to follow your passions because you don’t want to let anyone down! You don’t do anything for yourself because you’re  _ just as scared as I am,  _ but at least I’m  _ honest  _ about it!”

Just like that, the fire in her slowly dies out, and he isn’t saying anything. She can’t even read the expression on his face because he won’t even  _ look at her _ , still closed off and unwavering, and her entire body goes  _ cold.  _

The fear of rejection that James had just berated her for is quickly returning to her body. It’s almost palpable now—she can feel it in the way her chest is tighter than before and her stomach is in knots.  Everything she’d been trying to protect herself from all along by avoiding the reality that was falling in love with James Potter is caging her in.

“I don’t know what to say.” James finally manages to get out, his voice so quiet that Lily’s practically straining to hear it. It isn’t a rejection, but it isn’t really what she wanted to hear, either. It’s not much of anything, and it makes her feel hollow inside. 

“Well, when you figure it out, let me know.” She says slowly, dejectedly. Her gaze lowers to the ground because she can’t look at James and see the beginning of a rejection written in his features. She  _ can’t.  _

It’s heavy in the room. It’s  _ too  _ heavy, and Lily doesn’t think she can take another second of sitting in silence with him like this, so she pulls herself a little taller before she pushes past James to get out the bedroom door, avoiding any sort of eye-contact all the while. 

This  _ isn’t  _ running. This is giving James space. It’s giving him time to think and process. She’s  _ not  _ running. She tries to convince herself of that, but it’s pointless. It feels a lot like running, even if she  _ did  _ put herself out there more than she ever had before.

She isn’t quite sure where she’s going, moving aimlessly through the halls. She’s not headed o anywhere in particular, but she wants to be alone.

Of course, since the universe  _ apparently  _ is dead-set on making her suffer, she’s intercepted by none other than  _ Kitty  _ as she attempts to duck into a hallway, unseen. 

“Lily!” Kitty calls, and Lily slowly tips her head back to look up towards the ceiling. This place is a sodding  _ castle,  _ for fuck’s sake. She  _ should  _ be able to walk around without someone finding her  _ every time.  _

Kitty draws her from her inner-lamentations with a gentle hand to her shoulder, and when Lily twists her gaze to look at the girl, she actually feels guilty for her initial, adverse reaction. Kitty looks  _ apologetic  _ and  _ concerned  _ and Lily’s heart plunges. 

“Did… Did you and James have a fight?” Kitty asks quietly, and Lily forces herself to swallow the painful knot in her throat. She’s not going to cry. She’s not. “Lily, I’m  _ so sorry  _ about what Marty did. I already talked to him about it, but… Are you alright?” 

“I’m fine.” Lily says before she can stop herself. It isn’t true, exactly. She’s not really fine, but she’s not really in the position to unload all of her inner-turmoil on poor, sweet Kitty right now. That, in itself, makes her wince, because she’s only proving James  _ right. Again.  _ She changes the subject before Kitty can push the subject any further—like the coward she is. “Is he like this around you? Marty, I mean.” 

Lily feels a hint of remorse as soon as she asks the question—because even though it isn’t the less eloquent  _ ‘What do you see in this guy?’  _ that she wanted to ask, it isn’t exactly the most tactful thing she’s ever said. 

Kitty, however, actually relaxes and gives a little laugh. “No, not all the time. I think rivalry tends to bring out the worst in people, and from what Marty’s told me about James…” 

Lily lifts an eyebrow when she trails off, not finishing her sentence. “What did he tell you?”

Kitty shrugs. “Just that… I don’t know. He’s always felt like he’s lived in James’s shadow for his entire life. He’s two years older, and he’s handsome, and he’s going to take over the family business one day, which Marty has always dreamed of. And then he showed up this weekend with  _ you  _ by his side and I think Marty just overreacted. What he did wasn’t okay, of course, but I understand why he was upset.”

Lily feels even  _ more  _ guilty, now, because it was  _ her idea  _ to come and upstage Marty—but that was when all she knew about him was that he was insufferable, and she’d expected his fiancée to be the same way. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to steal any of the spotlight from you.” She finally murmurs, and Kitty gives her a soft smile. 

“You don’t need to be sorry. It isn’t about the spotlight, not to me. But you know how these Potter men are.” Kitty tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear, and Lily nods. She knows _exactly_ how these Potter men are. 

“They’re ridiculous.”

“So dramatic! Sometimes I still can’t believe that I fell in love with someone so…” Kitty can’t seem to find the word she wants to use, and instead settles for throwing her hands over her head in a gesture that Lily understands perfectly. “Marty, he’s… he’s immature sometimes. And he gets carried away with harebrained schemes more often than I can count. He speaks without thinking—to be honest, he does  _ everything  _ without speaking, but… But he’s also supportive of everything I do, and he remembers even the tiniest things about me, and he’s a good person. He really is.”

“I believe you.” And she does. She really does. That’s the same way she feels about  _ James.  _ “And I know exactly what you mean. James and Marty… they’re a lot more alike than they want to admit, I think. They remind me of my sister and I. We don’t get along, either.”

“They know how to put things aside when it matters, though. Marty’s already gone off to apologize to James.” 

Lily smiles. She’s glad that at least one relationship won’t be ruined tonight, even if it isn’t her and James. “Thank you. For checking up on me.”

“Of course, it’s what family does.” Kitty lays her hands on Lily’s shoulders and, despite everything that’s happened, Lily finds herself wishing that things between her and James  _ were  _ real—even if only for the reason of having someone like Kitty in her life. She’s the embodiment of everything Lily used to dream Petunia would someday be, but never was. “I’ll let you be on your way now, but… Lily?”

“Yes?”

“Everything will be okay—between you and James, I mean. Relationships are messy and imperfect, but the way that James looks at you… He loves you. And you love him. And that’s all that matters, at the end of the day.”

And, then, Kitty is gone, leaving Lily alone to process what it means to have yet another person tell her that James is in love with her when his actions only tell her the opposite. 

* * *

James isn’t exactly sure how long he’s been staring at the door, but it’s long enough for him to know that she isn’t standing outside of it, waiting. 

Maybe he should have run after her, caught her by the hands and spun her around with an apology for all the things he said—like in those movies she’d never admit she loves, but always watches, anyway. 

He  _ is  _ sorry, that’s the thing. In the minutes that have ticked by since she pushed past him and left him alone with his own thoughts, he’s had plenty of time to dwell on how unnecessarily harsh they were and plenty of time to be consumed by his own regret. 

He had the opportunity to tell Lily Evans—quite possibly the love of his life—how he felt about her, and instead he’d let his anger get the best of him. Instead, he’d insulted her. Instead, he’d let her slip from his grasp once again. 

It’s a mess. It’s a huge mess, and, for once, he has no plan on how to fix it. 

A sudden knock on his door draws him from his thoughts, and he shoots forward to open it. Maybe it’s Lily. Maybe she’s back, and he can apologize and try his best to undo everything he’d just ruined. 

He recoils, slightly, when it’s Marty’s face that comes into view, instead. 

“James.” He says, carefully. It almost sounds like a plea, and even though James  _ wants  _ to slam the door in his face, he doesn’t.  He steps aside and allows him to come in. He’ll be the bigger person this time.  “James, I owe you an apology.”  Marty is wringing his hands together in front of him, watching James with a worried gaze, and James is  _ shocked.  _ He’s apologizing?  “I was angry, and… and this back and forth competition—it’s what we’ve always done, you know? But I took it too far, and I’m sorry. For hurting you  _ and  _ for hurting Lily.”

_ Lily.  _

James sags, sinking down onto the edge of his bed and pushing his hands over his face. “You’re not the only one who hurt Lily, tonight. I think I did, even worse than you, so I have no room to talk. I’m the most awful of the awful right now.”

The bed dips. James uncovers his face and, to his surprise, Marty is sitting beside him. “Hey.” He puts a hand on James’s shoulder in a firm way that James knows means Marty is serious. “You’re not awful.”

“You weren’t there. You didn’t hear what I said. God, you didn’t see the way she  _ looked  _ at me.” James shakes his head, something dark and full of loathing clawing its way up his throat and threatening to burst out of him. 

“You’re not awful. You’re human. You think that there’s  _ anyone  _ in the world that’s never wanted to change what they’ve done? Do it differently?” Marty squeezes his shoulder, once, and pulls his hand away. “You should have heard what I said to Kitty when she told me that she was dropping out of uni to be a model. Now  _ that  _ was awful. Sometimes I think that I’d give anything to go back to that moment and try again, but it doesn’t matter. I can’t change what happened in the past. No one can. All we can do is focus on what we  _ can  _ do differently next time.”

“Next time.” James repeats, hollowly. “I don’t know if I’ll get a next time.”

“You will.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because she loves you.” Marty says, and James is struck by the certainty in his tone. “I’ve known you for your entire life, mate, and I never thought there would be a girl who could get past,” He waves a hand in James’s general direction, but there’s a smile on his face that shows that he’s not being malicious, “All this. But,  _ Merlin,  _ James. The way she  _ looks  _ at you.”

“The way she looks at me?” James repeats, and Marty has the audacity to  _ laugh.  _

“Yes, the way she looks at you. Like you hung the goddamn stars in the sky. Like you’re the fucking  _ moon _ . She’s in love with you, and I promise you she’ll hear what you have to say. Kitty gave me another chance, and I’m only half the man that you are.”

James’s brow furrows. Partly because Marty just said Lily is in love with him, but partly because this side of Marty isn’t one he sees often. “You think you’re half the man that I am? That’s bullshit.”

“Come on—”

“No,  _ you  _ come on. You’re so much smarter than I am. You’re already a better businessman than me, you have the job to prove it. You'd do so much better running my dad's business, I'm sure there are times he wishes that you were his son instead of me. And you’re  _ engaged _ to the sweetest girl I’ve ever met.”

“I’m lucky to have her.” Marty admits, rubbing the back of his neck in a sheepish manner. “Kitty… She brings out the best in me.”

James nods. He knows. Lily brings out the best in him, too. Most of the time.

“You’re not half the man that I am, Marty. You have to know that.”

“I always wanted to be like you, but I never could be. You were this football star, and you had amazing friends, and everyone loved you and I just… I started overcompensating, I guess. Tried to prove to myself that I didn’t have to be like you. And then I became nothing like you, instead.”

“You don’t have to be like me. I’m a ponce who works in a coffee shop, who’s too afraid to tell my own  _ dad  _ I don’t want to take over his business and can never manage to tell the girl I love how much she means to me. I should be more like  _ you,  _ if anything.” 

Marty laughs at that, and James finds a smile crossing his features, despite himself. “Alright, you wanna be more like me? Here’s your first lesson: Tell them.”

“Tell them?”

“Tell them. Tell your dad about the company. Tell Lily how you feel. Tell people the things you need to tell them, even if you think it won’t matter. At least you’ll have done it.”

James nods, slowly. “Okay. I’ll do it.”

“Then what are you still sitting here with me for?”

* * *

### LILY AND JAMES ARE THE WORST 2K19

**Today**  11:03 PM

_DORK-as Meadowes_  
Has anyone heard anything out of Lily?

 _Wormy_  
Nope

Nada.

 _Moony_  
She hasn't texted me in almost an hour  
Sorry

 _DORK-as Meadowes_  
We're just worried about her

 _Emme-LAME Vance_  
What about James?  
Has he said anything to any of you?

No :(  
Please don't remind me  
I'm very offended about it

 _Mar-MEAN McKinnon_  
Now you know how WE FEEL.

 _DORK-as Meadowes_  
WHAT IF SOMETHING IS WRONG

 _Wormy_  
Now you're scaring me  
IS THERE SOMETHING WRONG?

 _Moony_  
Relax  
All of you  
I'm sure there's nothing wrong

They're probably just making out somewhere

 _Mar-MEAN McKinnon_  
If James hurts her, I swear on MY LIFE  
I WILL SHOW HIM NO MERCY

 _Moony_  
Marlene. If he hurts her...  
WE will show him no mercy.

* * *

“I should’ve known you’d be here.” James is almost smiling—more, he’s wearing a hint of would  _ could  _ be, if this all goes as well as he hopes—because, really, where else would Lily be but his mum’s reading room. He feels like an idiot for taking so long to find her when the answer had been so comfortably  _ Lily. _

Lily’s gaze turns to him quickly, and he  _ knows  _ that she’s nervous. He can see it in the crease of her eyebrows, the hesitancy in her eyes, the stiffness in her shoulders—all the things he’s always been so painfully in tune with. “James.” 

He’s seen Lily in a lot of states. He’s seen her when she was broken into a million, tiny pieces, and he’s also seen her  _ radiate  _ happiness like the sun, but he’s never seen her so carefully vulnerable the way that she is, now, as she walks towards him. 

“Lily, I fucked up and I’m so—” James attempts to reach out for her, wanting  _ nothing  _ more than to pull her into his chest and rid her of every last fear that’s holding her back—because he  _ loves her,  _ and she  _ has  _ to know that—but Lily holds a palm out at him in a signal to stop, and he freezes. 

“No. I need to talk, and… I’m about to put a lot out on the line, and once I do, I can’t take it back, so I need you to just… listen, for now.” Her voice drops suddenly to a whisper that’s quiet and laced with an edge of fear so raw it makes James’s breath catch in his throat. 

“Okay.” He nods, and that’s all he can say because Lily asked him to listen, so he  _ will.  _ He’ll do anything for her.

“You want me to see me feel something for someone? You’re looking at it, James. You’ve been looking at it this whole time. You’re my favorite person in the  _ world,  _ and I thought that we were just friends—I tried to convince myself that we were just friends, because anything beyond that is messy and complicated and comes with a risk of  _ losing you  _ someday. And I’m not going to pretend like that isn’t terrifying, because  _ it is,  _ but… but you’re right. I can’t that fear keep holding me back.”

Lily’s continuously moving closer to him as she speaks, and it’s _killing_ him because she’s _right there,_ and she’s saying all _this_ to him, but he knows she isn’t finished so he can’t reach out for her yet.

“You fuck things up, but so do I. Way worse. I never say the right things, and I keep myself too closed off, and I try too hard,  _ all the time, _ to be perfect, and I’m  _ not  _ perfect—I’m nowhere near it… but you make me feel like I am, even when I fuck everything up.” Finally,  _ finally,  _ Lily’s close enough to touch, and he can’t keep himself from seeking out her hand, now, watching as she visibly relaxes when their fingers weave together. “And I’m still terrified, and you still deserve better, but—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” James can’t keep himself from interrupting this time, shaking his head slowly. Her words are insane to him, and he can’t tell if she’s being serious or not, but his heart sinks a little at the thought that she  _ is. _  “You think I deserve  _ better?  _ Lily, there’s literally nobody who could ever be  _ better  _ for me than you are.”

“James—” Lily attempts to protest, but he’s not having it. He’s  _ not.  _ It’s his turn to talk now, and Lily  _ has  _ to know how completely mistaken she is for believing, even for a second, that she could somehow  _ not be good enough for him.  _

“Lily Jean. For being the smartest person I know, you’re  _ so daft. _ ” He shakes his head, pointedly ignoring the mildly offended noise of protest that she makes. “You’re the reason why I started doing so well in college. You made me like to read—not just poetry, but everything. And you’re  _ always  _ trying to convince me to do the things that make me happy. Like cooking! Nobody has  _ ever  _ suggested that I even think about pursuing it, because nobody’s ever noticed how much I really enjoy it—except  _ you.  _ You care about my happiness more than your own, sometimes, and you make my entire world so much brighter, and I can’t believe you would think—even for a second—that there’s anyone I would want to be with more than you.”

They’re so,  _ so  _ incredibly close together now, and James doesn’t even process it until he’s finally finished speaking and Lily’s green eyes are staring at him like he’s just fetched her the moon out of the sky. He doesn’t know who was the one that pushed them in closer to each other, but he  _ doesn’t care.  _

“I might be falling in love with you.” Lily says it like a warning, and James can’t keep himself from grinning at her as he lifts his free hand to rest on her cheek.

“Well, that’s really good news for me, because I’ve been in love with you for quite some time, now.” 

“Funny, that’s what everyone keeps telling me.”

“Oh, shut up.”

“Why don’t you make me?”

So he does. He doesn't think twice as he takes her face between his hands—except, maybe, about how every moment in his life so far has, quite possibly, been leading up to this—and leans in carefully, slowly, trying to savor every last bit of how it all feels. Their noses bump gently as his lips only  _barely_ brush against hers, and a smile takes over his face when she gives an impatient whine. 

It doesn't last for long, though. He's cut short when Lily grabs him by the front of his shirt and closes the distance between them. James can't bring himself to be mad. He can't even bring himself to be mildly upset, because  _Lily Evans is kissing him again._ He gets another chance, by some stroke of fate, and this time he  _won't_ mess it up. 

This kiss isn't tentative or careful, the way the last one had. James doesn't want to leave her with a single piece of doubt  _anywhere_ in her about how he feels. He threads one of his hands through her hair, the other slipping from the side of her face all the way down to the small of her back, pulling her impossibly closer, and uses the tiny gasp she gives as an opportunity to press  _deeper_ into the kiss.

He only pulls back when he absolutely  _has_ to get air into his lungs, but that isn't the only reason why he's breathless. 

“It’s you. It’s always been you, and I’m sorry for making you wait so long.” Lily whispers, leaving her hands on his chest and her forehead pressed against his, and James swears that his heart does a backflip. 

“If you are not too long, I will wait here for you all my life.” He quotes dutifully, and he’s not even the tiniest bit ashamed of the pure cheesiness of the line he chose. 

Admittedly, the fact that Lily  _ beams  _ before throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him again  _ does  _ factor into his pride, but  _ still,  _ Oscar Wilde was a genius.

* * *

### LILY AND JAMES ARE THE WORST 2K19

**Today**  11:39 PM

_Emme-LAME Vance_  
LILY JUST TEXTED ME.

 _Moony_  
And?

 _Wormy_  
And???

AND??????

 _Mar-MEAN McKinnon_  
Sirius Black  
You owe me £20

FUCK.  
Okay. Totally worth it.

 _Wormy_  
Wait does this mean what I think it means

**DORK-as Meadowes** named the conversation “LILY AND JAMES ARE FINALLY TOGETHER

This is the BEST DAY OF MY LIFE.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all got some closure out of that!! Not just for James and Lily, but for Kitty and Marty, too. I think I did an adequate job of redeeming good, old Marty, especially since I had no idea how it was going to happen. ANYWAY! Thank you for bearing with me over this extended wait, and for making it all the way to the end!! This brings this little journey to a conclusion, for now. I'm still torn on adding an epilogue, of sorts, but I'm pretty content with the resolution here. 
> 
> There's another story in this series, that takes place two years after this! If you haven't read it yet, I would suggest going and checking it out! Also, I've completely fallen in love with this little universe, so I'm sure there will be more to come—including maybe a look back at when James and Lily weren't too crazy about each other. Maybe an extended look at Petunia's wedding. Maybe even James and Lily's wedding, one day!!! Who knows!! If you have anything you'd like to see me write for this universe, feel free to leave me a suggestion in the comments!
> 
> Thank you for coming along with me, for all your supportive comments, and for reading!!


End file.
